Thursday, November 22, 2001

Ken Keseywulf

Unlock the word horde
Tell of Kesey, son of Paine
Of Oregon came he, wild wideeyed
Down from tall trees, stobs skin ripping
Word world wielding
Further far of faring he
Intrepid tripster!
Speak now of bus-bedecked with psychoswirl
Cassidy, sire of Babydriver, at the wheel
Moriarity!
John the Baptist who lost his head
On and on and on in final frame per second
Super-8 and Ampex sucking light and life into their pools
Is this trip really necessary?
Kesey!
Set forth -- into the right now naked
Set forth -- bullbare bright skull opened
Reddy Killowatt bulb burning
In dark time of closed minds inward turned around him
When freedom’s hall was clasped
In Combine’s grasp of Grendel talons
Military madness, monster of might
A time when knightmares gripped the skin
When sons of William the Wild, he the son of Donovan
Offending Cosmo the Bright One
Said “let us bring the war within the skull
Make mouse fight cat and cat cower”
Of fruit of ergot did they forge
Sandoz physic, herb of mind’s door opening
War’s weapon of weakness wielded in skull
Of this he took but did not cower
Eyes open, surrounded by the broken ones
In Grendel’s depths, pool of death
He saw there peace, not war, clear water
Fountain not laid by hand of man
No sword but hand of light there
Lady of the Lake, Liberty’s arm restored in light
Holding torch bestowing light like diamonds
Shining stabbing down to Uncle Sam blue deep in dungeon’s depth
Shining crying “get the fuck out of there”
For he shocked the skull to enter
Skull within skull, keep of Faust
Entered down and in tomb’s womb
Found hard within soft, yin in yang
The pool of fire, Fire on the Lake
As spoken in the tossed bones
Pools of Bibbit’s eyes where dead men dwell and dying live
For light in darkness lies and in prison freedom
Yet down in deepdown dark where monsters are
Nurse Ratched, Grendel and Bubba fucking mommy
Down he dove there, down to dark depths
Into death’s black pools dove he and fucked the monster
And passed the Acid Test
Owsley!
Fuck the speed limit!
Let perception’s doors open!
Set forth the grateful dead!
Drink skyblue fire and dance in light!
Cross country in your chariot!
Pranking yanking chains and rattling cages
Flute freedom unspelling doom damned dumb
Set Turtle Island swimming free in Ylem
Worldsea of anarchy, Occam’s Ocean ringing
But death dies not when bottom line is clasped
And Combine holds the ledger
(For red is dead and dead not better)
You wanted to look at the books? Here, look at the books!
The numbers must add up
Numb to numb and dumb to dumb!
Mouse will be eaten and cat kill
Dance stilled, songs shushed, writers silenced
The King must die
Is ye natural order of things
Back and to the left, back and to the death
Too many RPMs -- slow down!
We plant the pot, we bronze the shoes, we set you up
For law is power, power law
Combine’s skullfuck on your orbitals
Here’s prison’s prism, hippy -- go refract yourself
But death from death did Kesey steal
Faking suicide died, sort of
Wrote note, left car on cliff, was born again
Dying born into land more dead than dead
Namely Mexico, under the volcano and to the left
In Puerto Vallarta, wreath writhed in excess
But the Combine wasn’t fooled
Mouse roared, cat’s corrned, quaking
But no big shit
For Grendel fucked the knights of the revolution
As they lay sleeping in dayglo Mead Hall
Psychedelic dungeon where phony hippies meet
Even as Kesey did time in Chino
Of knights’ plucked fucked skulls did Grendel gather
All skulls piling into marketing display at JCPenney
Released . . .yeah, right
Out of prison, it was all prison
Miles and miles of unmade movie and books unwritten
Woodstock jumped in the water and drowned
Revolution aborted while rude beasts slouched
Nixon unto Reagan and all of Grendel’s children
Yet what is written has been written
The seeds are in
The mouse is out of the bag
Grendel has been fucked and unfucked can never be
Go to sleep, it’s time to live; wake up, it’s time to die
No problem
Backward turning Kesey never wanted
Further onward, further further
Furthermoreforevermore
No turn unstoned, no bridge unburned
For the flute is always playing
And death is just part of the trip
Of last word heard as gearstripping bus
Was burning turning into
Hall of the Bright One, place of final acidtest, mead indeed
The word unlocked was one last prank
You’re free, you stupid fuckers -- just too dumb to know it
Dumb, damned, free
Furthur!

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