H e a r t   S o n s   &   H e a r t   D a u g h t e r s   of   A l l e n   G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m   H e a l t h   S p a :   R e p o r t   2 0 1 4 :   A r c h i v e s   E d i t i o n






The Dead Are Dead

                  for César Vallejo’s Trilce LXXV


the dead are dead,  that’s a fact.

however they’re heard chirping speeches

for the benefit of worn out scriptures

that hang us with the futility

of laws with toothless skulls.


we must be quiet.

listen to their choruses crack the skin of ageless theories

like earthquakes and volcanoes

that perform endless encores painlessly piercing

the hearts of orphaned keyholes huddled in churches

like ancient virgins and threadless buttons

seeking stitches.


the dead are dead and crying.

they eulogize their fates

and blame it on the judgments of finality

of tides that ebb and flow

an eternity of seasons armed and breathing.






[Originally published in NHS 1995, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs95/index.html#43.]