Mexico City Blues, Page 2

  The fantastic steelsmoke

  In choke mad tunnels

  of Timbercountry Calif.

  where if I’d-a fell,

  I’d-a fell on peb pebbles

  of sore iron grit,

  of hard put to it

  Importunate fool that I was,

  I raved to fight Saviors

  Instead of listening in

  To the Light – still a fool

  23rd Chorus

  CHORUS NO. 1 of

  Blues in Bill’s Pad

  CHORUS NO. 23 of

  San Francisco Blues

  FOURTEEN CHORUSES

  of Blue City Blues

  Fifteen O Choruses

  of Genu wine blues

  Sing you a blues song

  sing you a tune

  Sing you eight bars

  of Strike Up the Band

  Eight of Indiana, eight

  of Israel,

  Eight of Chubby’s Chubby,

  eight of old Wardell

  Yes baby, Count Blue

  Basie’s fat old Chock

  Wallopin Fat Rushing

  Was a wow old saloon man

  24th Chorus

  All great statements ever made

  abide in death

  All the magnificent & witty

  rewards of French Lettrism

  Abide in death

  All the Roman Sculptor

  of Heroes, all Picassos

  and Micassos and

  Macayos

  and

  Machados

  and Kerouaco’s –

  even Asvaghosha’s Glorious Statement

  and Asanga’s and Holy Sayadaw

  and all the good and kind saints

  and the divine unabstractable ones

  the holy and perfect ones

  All Buddhas and Dharmas

  All Jesuses and Jerusalems

  And Jordans and How are You’s

  – Nil, none, a dream,

  A bubble pop, a foam snit

  in the immensities of the sea

  at midnight in the dark

  25th Chorus

  Dont worry about death

  Once you’re there

  Because it is trackless

  Having no track to follow

  You will rest where you are

  In inside of the essence

  But the moment I say essence

  I draw that word back

  And that remark – essence’s

  Unspoken, you cant say a word,

  essence is the word for the finger

  that shows us bright blankness

  When we look into the God face

  We see radiant irradiation

  From middleless center

  Of Objectless fire roe-ing

  In a fieldstar all its own

  Is my own, is your own,

  Is not Owned by Self-Owner

  but found by Self-Loser –

  Old Ancient Teaching

  26th Chorus

  Knew all along

  That when chicken is eaten

  Rooster aint worried

  And when Rooster is eaten

  Chicken aint worried

  Because what’s there to worry

  What’s there to grow teeth

  To eat rebirth’s beginningless

  Meat of Eternal Comeback?

  For Christ Sake stop saying

  And saving your lives,

  It’s only one more hour

  Beyond your pale light

  There’s no end on all sides

  The saylessness, the sayless ork

  awk ah of child

  on afternoon sidewalk

  Or of Hurubela Elephant Cow

  of Ant Colonies

  M’e’r y o cking

  in a moment

  of the Landscape day

  in Vast Acadian

  Pure Land –

  Buddha loved all sentient beings

  27th Chorus

  Krissake Wakeup

  Nuts like Carl Solomon

  A sharp Jew I know,

  Say that all’s already ended,

  A dream a long time done.

  Sit in the Bedlam high

  Inside Mind listening dreaming

  To the music of the time

  Coming through the Aura Hole

  Of Old Father Time

  Mustache on a Jimmy the Greek

  stage

  Ork, song of Nova Scotia,

  Silly, any, songs,

  Floating in the Open Blue,

  Balancing on Balloons,

  Balloons, BALLOONS,

  BALLOONS of Rosé Hope,

  balloons Balloons BALLOONS

  the Vast Integral Crap

  a

  Balloons

  BALLOONS is your time

  Balloons is the ending

  THAT’S THE SCENE

  28th Chorus

  The discriminating mind.

  Discrimination is when, say,

  you’re offered something

  And you accept it one way

  or the other,

  Not thinking of improving;

  Then comes the Craft Gleam

  And you look over to see

  What’s to be to advantage,

  And find it, pouncin like a Puma,

  Like a Miser Hero of Gold

  Cellars

  & Herring

  in barrels,

  – And you seek to achieve

  Greater satisfaction

  Which is already impossible

  Because of Supreme Reality

  and Time

  And Timelessness Entire

  All conjoined & arranged & finished

  By Karmas of Rue

  In heavenlands remote –

  You suffer & you fall,

  You discriminate a ball.

  29th Chorus

  “Man, now, you wont let me talk”

  Gripes the irreligious feline cat –

  That cat has no trumpet

  But bubblegum to blow on

  Poor sad Bhikku of the Forest

  Of poor, lost little Nino

  In Calles of Forever,

  Streets of Old Burma,

  Be saved secret wretched

  Urchin brother hero

  You are protected

  By the Guardians

  of

  the

  Alone

  All is alone, you dont have to talk

  One Light, One Transcendental Ecstasy

  If they dont understand that

  In the South, it’s because

  All their Baptists

  Have not been to Shool

  30th Chorus

  Tender is the Night

  Tender is the Eve Star

  F. Scott Fitzgerald, the Alamoan

  Huckster Crockett Hero

  Who burned his Wife Down

  and tore up the 95 Devils

  with crashes of laughter

  and breaking of glass

  in the monocled Ibyarritz

  the Little Grey Fox

  OF NEW HAVEN CONN

  via Princeton O Sure

  Tender is the marlin spike,

  Tender is the sea,

  Tender the London Fog

  That Befalls to Me

  Tender is the Cat’s Bath

  Blue Meow

  The Little Grey Fox

  That nibbled at the grapes

  Tender was his foreskin,

  tender his Nape.

  31st Chorus

  Three Saints in Four Acts

  by Gertrude Stein

  A Great Prophet

  is a Great Teacher

  But he is also

  a Great Saint

  And he is furthermore

  a Great Man

  And more than that

  an incomparable listener

  to music and non-music

  everywhere

  And a Great Sitter Under Trees,

  And a
Man of Trees,

  And a Man of Sorrows,

  And a Lemon Light

  of Angel Sounds

  and Singer of Religion

  wild singer of come-igion

  wild lover of the origin

  wild hater of hate his own

  Convulsive writer of Poems

  And dialog for Saints

  Stomping their feet

  On Pirandelloan stage

  32nd Chorus

  Newton’s theory of relativity

  and grave gravity

  Is that rocks’ll fall on your head

  Pluto is the Latest Star

  Astronomical facts

  from under the bar.

  Little cottages on hills receive

  the Constellation of

  the Southern Hemisphere

  Where rosy doves’re seen flyin

  Past Pis Cacuaqaheuro

  Monte Visto de Santo

  De Gassa – healing helium

  gas – from the substance

  on the sun star –

  gas discovered on the sun

  by spectral gazing

  Sorcerers hoppity skop

  with the same familiarity

  In my Buddhaland dreams –

  Monotonous monotony

  of endless grape dirigible stars

  33rd Chorus

  A vast cavern, huh?

  I stop & jump to other field

  And you wander around

  Like Jap prisoners

  In Salt Lake Cities

  Under San Francisco’s

  Sewage disaster.

  “An explorer of souls

  and cities –”

  “A lowdown junkey” –

  “Who has discovered

  that the essence of life

  is found only in the poppy plant

  with the help of odium

  the addict explores

  the world anew

  and creates a world

  in his own image

  with the help of Madame

  Poppy

  I’m an idealist

  who has outgrown

  my idealism

  I have nothing to do

  the rest of my life

  but do it

  and the rest of my life

  to do it”

  34th Chorus

  “I have no plans

  No dates

  No appointments with anybody

  So I leisurely explore

  Souls and Cities

  Geographically I’m from

  and belong to that group

  called Pennsylvania Dutch

  But I’m really a citizen

  of the world

  who hates Communism

  and tolerates Democracy

  Of which Plato said 2000 years

  ago,

  Was the best form of bad government

  I’m merely exploring souls & cities

  From the vantage point

  Of my ivory tower built,

  Built with the assistance

  of Opium

  That’s enough, isnt it?”

  35th Chorus

  It was the best show,

  the guys used to give up

  a good movie

  just to hear him talk

  Now is the Time

  Now is the Time

  To kill an hour

  and Delaware Punch

  each

  A Star is Born –

  muckle lips in the movie

  “I’d rather not” –

  “I really dont wanta go” –

  Yeah, fuck the movie.

  Fuck the mambo.

  Fuck is a dirty word

  But it comes out clean.

  Everything (after a gasp)

  is fine, already really.

  Whatever it was.

  “Anyway it happened”

  Says Allen (Poe) Ginsberg –

  Quote from Plato right?

  Time on a Bat – growl of truck.

  36th Chorus

  No direction

  No direction to go

  Burroughs says it’s a time-space

  travel ship

  Connected with mystiques

  and mysteries

  Of he claims transcendental

  majesties,

  Pulque green crabapples

  of hypnotic dream

  In hanging Ecuad vine.

  Burroughs says, We have destiny,

  Last of the Faustian Men.

  No direction in the void

  Is the news from the void

  In touch with the void

  Everywhere void

  No direction to go

  (but)

  (in) ward

  Hm

  (ripping of paper indicates

  helplessness anyway)

  37th Chorus

  Mad about the Boy –

  Tune – Fué –

  Going along with the dance

  Lester Young in eternity

  blowing his horn alone

  Alone – Nobody’s alone

  For more than a minute.

  Growl, low, tenorman,

  Work out your tune till the day

  Is break, smooth out the rough night,

  Wail,

  Break their Beatbutton bones

  On the Bank of Broad

  England Ah Patooty

  Teaward Time

  Of Proust & bearded

  Majesty

  In rooms of dun ago

  in long a lash

  alarum speakum

  mansions tennessee

  of gory william tree

  – (remember that little

  box of tacks?)

  38th Chorus

  (Pome beginning with parenthesis:–

  God!)

  Garver has an Aztec Hammer

  To batter the tacks in

  It’s made of Pyramid Stone

  The shape of a Knot –

  Cleopatra’s Knot –

  The Knotty issue Marc

  Brandelian Antonio

  Julius Marc McAnthony

  Thorny horn of hare

  Propensities and hair

  And disgusting to the bare.

  Aztec Hammer, never stop.

  Folded ripplefold over there

  nice,

  Tacks went in,

  “It’s take an artist

  to do all this”

  Careful man of cellophane

  decks

  &

  sometimes

  ceremonial

  silver foil

  but

  usually

  plain pleasant paper

  39th Chorus

  Comfortable Patience –

  Talkin about a Hobbyman

  Who draws cartoons for a livin,

  Bangin in tacks carefully

  For King Features Syndicate

  Has got him by the balls

  And Hammerthongs

  And central Goonyak

  Worp Ward

  Orphantail –

  Aztec Stick –

  ugly Spew Smoke

  Dragon Beoryen

  smitherwolf

  Wildstar

  Monster Over the Fence

  is Frankenstein

  Careful, true, Nirvana,

  Patient in his Comfort,

  Humble in his Demands,

  Weary of the Fear,

  No longer fearing

  The fair happy air

  Permeated with Cherub

  And fingers a pair

  In V Victory – meaning One

  40th Chorus

  Did bespat and beshit himself Rabelais,

  Roundelay, singing with a chocolate

  mouth

  Did tangle in the gangles

  of legs’ hair

  And scream with the wine

  in his glut.

  “What do you think?”

  This cover is most excellent,


  It’s shiny and red,

  This car will do nicely

  All over the bed.

  Rabelais was a mad nut

  And also a doctor

  And wrote of priests’ jocks

  In 1492

  Wha’ hoppen in Oaxaca?

  – gluts rained glut

  guts out of her

  brimy bottard

  and washed the old man’s

  river underwear

  41st Chorus

  That other part of your mind

  Where everything’s refined

  To thin hare screamers

  Must be in the cavern

  Somewhere.

  But was is its self-nature

  of location?

  Nada, nadir, naparinirvana

  ni parinirvana

  But Most Excellent & Wise,

  the Glorious Servant

  of Sentient Needs

  Tathagata Akshobya,

  Brother of Merudhvhaga,

  Kin to Sariputra –

  Holy & Wise

  Like John in the Wood

  42nd Chorus

  POEM WRITTEN ON A SAILBOAT

  It’s a powerful sock powerful

  Mock powerful breeze blowin

  Across this leeward shirsh

  Of fought waters thrashin

  Up to spit on the deck

  Of Heroing Man,

  Ah, as we sail the jibboom

  Upon the va va voom

  And Saltpeter’s her petter

  Again, the Larceny Commission’ll

  Hear of this, fight the lawyers,

  Upset the silly laws, anger

  the

  hare

  brain

  bird

  of

  wine

  In his railroad tam o shanter

  Commemorative termagant

  Able to dissect such tycoon

  Burpers outa their B Movies’

  Investment in Black.

  ‘Bop’

  Even on a sailboat

  I end up writin bop

  43rd Chorus

  Mexico City Bop

  I got the huck bop

  I got the floogle mock

  I got the thiri chiribim

  bitchy bitchy bitchy

  batch batch

  Chippely bop

  Noise like that

  Like fall in off porches

  Of Tenement Petersburg

  Russia Chicago O Yay.

  Like, when you see,

  the trumpet kind, horn

  shiny in his hand, raise

  it in smoke among heads

  he bespeaks, elucidates,

  explains and drops out,

  end of chorus, staring

  at the final wall

  where in Africa

  the old men petered

  out on their own account