Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen. Страница 231

horrified find her headless, skull fallen to the floor.

I picked her up by the shoulders, afraid to look at

the Medusa head

               which I lifted by long hair & set

on the sink before the mirror, but beheld no mad

drawn-cheek wild-eyed or blood-splotched wrinkled forehead—

Calm, beautiful face, tranquil in life’s last moments

as if in prayer, eyes clear and modest, face content

with neither smile or frown but even-browed, eyebrows

in repose, cheeks colored healthy still as when alive.

“I made a mistake” I thought, in following the doctors’ rules,

or where’d I get th’ idea she was screaming and banging

her head on the wall in neural agony? Was that just my thought

or hadn’t others told me so? Why’d I do it so abrupt

without consulting the World or the rest of the family—

Her look at last so tranquil and true made me wonder

why I’d covered her so early with black shroud.

Had I been insane myself and hasty? I left the room.

At Joel the doctor’s wedding party the family’d gathered

whoever was left alive. Yes of course they found her corpse,

they knew she was crazy, but didn’t announce a murder,

just whispered among themselves she was dead in the bathroom

causes unknown, tho headless, hard for her to suicide herself,

a further investigation would clarify this big mistake.

In fact my cousin my publisher with troubled frown

put the matter to rest, saying he’d call on the police

after the wedding guests go home. I said—

“I might be able to clear up the mystery. You saw

her head?” He looked at me surprised, how did I know

she was dead with her head cut off? I realized

I’d given myself away, but risked it, why lie more,

build up Karma nightmare another year & then get caught?

Police find my fingerprints on Naomi’s dead neck? or my blade

be found under my bed, in the dust behind the refrigerator

on East 12th Street Lower East Side, I be arrested

in newspaper scandal? “You saw the head?” I asked

again, giving my knowledge away. “But are you sure?”

he asked. Dressed in his Harvard suit and silken tie

striped red and gold, “We have our legal staff, perhaps you should

consult with them, no fee, fortunate contract,

our clients we value, you for your Collected Works we do

protect without question.” Helpful, alas, too late for me

to undo the murder of my mother, I must confess, I had

confessed, too late to undo confession and truth, I woke.

December 21, 1984, 5:12 A.M.

World Karma

China be China, B.C. Clay armies underground the First Han Emperor’s improvement

on burying his armies alive

Later Ming tombs buried excavator architects

& Mao officially buried 20,000,000 in Shit Freeze & Exile, much Suicide

especially bilingual sophisticates in the molecular structure of surfaces, machine-tool engineers

and Poetic intelligentsia questioned his Imperial vision of Pure Land

future communist afterworld

Russia had Czars & Stalin, all Yiddish Poets shot August 12, 1952 in Lubyanka basement, everybody got drunk afterward,

everyone still whispers on streetcorners

America forever democratic, lawless sheriffs shot Indians, bad men, good men, chinks kikes niggers and each other

Spain always killed bulls & loved blood, matadors & crucifixion, reds & fascists assassinated anarchists—

The Jews always complained, kvetching about false gods, and erected the biggest false God, Jehovah, in middle of western civilization—

For creating the Judge the Jews are judged that’s their world Karma continuing, the Atom bomb

British always had sense of superiority, class, stiff upperlip, the Queen and fuck you ducky up your bloody ’ole

The French, advanced sense of superiority, stiff back, Algerie is always indissolubly a part of La France,

We will not regret the necessity to kill you or anyone who disagrees

They appreciate everything wine women song modern art

O la la they’re so smart, introduced opium cultivation

Indochina will always be an indissoluble addiction to France, the Bourse

Germans had Kaisers Hitlers, orderly meticulous and rational a bunch of beasts

now want Nuclear arms They’re also intelligent Pride themselves on Science

romantic Poetry, their Black Forest mysterious full of Solitude acid rain

hi tech civilization First the ovens of Auschwitz now goodbye ancient trees

we have to keep up with the vulgar Americans

Italy the trains never ran on time, they got good shoes & Pope & Mafia

also good tomatoes and Angelico Beato, who’d want to complain in Naples or Uffizi?

In 200 years America’ll have a billion people like neon China

Computerized students’ll sleep six abed and hawk their mucus on the morning floor

before fighting to get into the shower—much less a piece of soap

and half stick of bacon with their petrochemical Wheaties & eggs— That’s because

we had to Get Back to America, let’s Stand Up Tall

so we can insult the rest of the world.

More!—The Moslems expansionist monotheists will go Jihad whenever able

Always their god best god only god only name Allah and

die like a dog if you don’t believe me! From Morocco to Java

heathen dogs and cats go barking and meow after terrific Nobodaddy

in Paradise the Western lands Heaven Pure Land Garden of Sky,

other side of Eternal Dreamtime I vote for Australian Aborigines!

Let them run the world after Hi Tech’s annihilated all other species & genetic strains

from whale to donkey sperm.

Kunming, December 24, 1984, Midnight-12:49

Prophecy

As I’m no longer young in life

and there seem to me not

so many pleasures to look forward to

How fortunate to be free

to write of cars and wars, truths of eras,

throw away old useless

ties and pants that don’t fit.

January 9, 1985