For Allen Ginsberg
I saw the best minds of my generation seduced by greed,
maniacal scheming selfish despicable, driving themselves through Mexicana
streets in the evenings searching for absolution’s high,
Political spinsters trading their souls for mortal power and
the lies of wealthy lobbies to power this machine calling itself democracy,
Which laughs from on the heights and looks down of the
deprived and vacant smokers as they claw for the super rich and their Enronic
nomenclatures, meditating to the rhythmic strains of water falls,
Who bartered our futures off to a God who has forgotten his
children and an Allah who praises death and killing,
Who walks among the educated, like messiahs declaring for
gospels of technology and ipods screaming the music of the spheres
Who brazenly stand in penthouse lofts drinking new wine and
eating caviar that was grown in Kansas ,
Who grew pot in apartments avoiding the police by making a
living wage far above the peddlers to the desperate fools in the mobile
meth-death labs.
Who preach patriotism and loving soldiers trained to kill
but to believe that they aren’t killers,
Who raced the clock to bring doctored news to the multitudes
who scream for blood and bodies of children and women killed at schools and
weddings by misfired missions from men with families of their own,
Who displayed their wares of destruction in the market
places and called for rights to the good gun carrying public who ratified their
amendments that would ensure that the rest of the world would hate them for
their ignorance and cruelty.
Who left the young to fend for themselves so that the really
important things could be looked for in life like beauty and fat,
Who traveled around the world and brought Coca-cola and
Hershey’s chocolate and tooth decay to Eden ,
Who built great pyramids with golden arches to the foreign
places in hopes of edible food and self-centered cultures?
Who stormed the palisades of Lost Vega sacrificing earnings
and retirements for the promise of easy living
Who paying homage to the unforgiving slot machines which
promise absolution of sins because they would have you believe that sins only
exist in the Mafioso city out in the valley of death and nowhere else not even
in Rome.
Who believe in written words on electronic mediums over well
known facts because the writer is right for the moment
Who smoke tobacco death, enslaving the young to ideals of
rugged and sophisticated idolatry while denying truths as their parents die
choking in bleak hospital rooms.
Who market mass murder for entertainment and relief from
mass market stress.
Who storm the barricades of religion calling upon blind
faith, blind justice and some wicked idea of micro management for yuppie
insurance.
I look to the unassailable stars twinkling in amusement down
on our desperate race to reach them with actually going out there.
II
What gargoyle of sarcasm and treachery stones the masses
with small skulls of the less fortunate and forgotten ethnic war victims?
Moloch! Isolation! Clean Killing! Tobacco! Firearms!
Alcohol! Pop stars screaming for American Idol! Girls crying in armies! Senior
citizens weeping at the polls!
Moloch the indescribable computer! Loveless and perfect!
Smarter than men!
Moloch the processes by which Ram is remembered and calculating
the fates of the plastic masses of sheep-like humans who scatter beneath his
massive footprints.
Moloch! The bringer of chaos and war reaching down from
Avalon and steal the firstborn sons of tycoons and coalminers alike.
Despair and parades! Sex and Disease! AIDS is one of three
and the Angels cry songs of despair and defeat.
Technology and bibles of science will disprove all that has
been written and discovered confounding the fools as the disasters arise among
the ruins.
Depeche Mode was right all along with their blasphemous
rumors that God has a sick sense of humor and when we all die we will arise
through the smog to find him ROFL.
I C U as you want me to see you; the mp3’s playing our
symphony of history as this generation faces its apathetic doom.
III
Allen Ginsberg! I stand where you stood in Rockland
Where you
are insane and I am too.
I’m with you at Penn
State
Where my
sniper shot and killed eight
I’m with you at Waco
Where my
government burned the unbelievers in their temples.
I’m with you in Oklahoma
When an
angry America
asked for justice with a bomb.
I’m with you in New York City
Where we drank lattes as the
Islamic Anger brought the towers to ash and destruction. Where heroism and
despair ran hand in hand for one day of fire
And paper rained over America the
guilty gave us fear and the president gave us a war that would claim the rest
of our youth preaching peace with a gun and the missile of fun.
I’m with you in Rockland
In my
dreams I hear your cry for justice, as we hide out in America waiting
for
Waiting for
some sanity to return and I can look at your grave and wonder how
Long it
took this howl to die out from the throats of the hippies to stoned to
Realize
that this would be their fates.
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