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






during the passage of a day


up in the morning

I dress     drink my coffee

and depart


I buy a ticket

on an airplane



I travel         travel         travel

farther than

my father


fire rises throughout this land

and consume me

I leave with my ashes


scattered on the wind of its breath

as hot as an insomniac computer

the world flames up as its heart beats


I burn       I learn

many hidden secrets few

believe are true


their darkness shines

like a precious stone

locked safely in a vault


I'm told not to care

by a floppy disked god

made in my image and likeness


who protects me from myself

and from gangs of komodo dragons

holed up in Baghdad


I'm urged to hate those

who don't understand

our mythic slogan lingo


of loss and sacrifice

locked in the president's



carried under guard

and labeled

top secret



there's still hope

we'll win the lottery


by selling millions as slaves

in the promised land

of despair


we caw like crows for salvation

dead bodies hung

like scarecrows


complaining about comfort

on death rows full

of famished hyenas


who laugh as they rip

every sacred morsel of mystery

from our dreams


I know it's hopeless as

I hear nationalist hymns

and anthems


crooning about freedom


to save us from its wicked curse


making me shake my head

hoping to scatter

fear and hate






[Originally published in NHS 2004, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs04/Michael_Pingarron.html.]