OM DADDY NUPRIN
Who would ever call themselves that?
Too hip for me, or not hip at all.
I am viewing art as sacrosanct.
That goes for it all - words, paint,
music maybe and magic too. I read
whatever I may into the big white clouds.
-
Om Daddy is sitting here with me, reading
his book. He's from Bratislava a long-time
back - and now he nods assent to, well, almost
anything American. Coffee in that cup and
that muffin in his hand. Oh well, too. I
watch, but I am not amused.
-
I want to ask instead : where is Cezanne?
Has Pollock or Rothko been here yet? Those
guys from the Cedar, can we meet them later?
deKooning, perhaps, both Elaine and Willem too?
Otherwise, I won't know what to do!
-
Who would ever call themselves that?
Those crazy 50's guys, those all-freaked-out
smokers with their tomes : hip fat-guy lumberjack
flannel laughter, fucking women wherever they are.
Coitus Intermingulus prophylactus nihilissimus bang!
Smack! Wallop! Om Daddy Nuprin ain't been there yet!
-
I'm just now realizing all these things, and
it's way too late for me. Harvey Keitel and
Dennis Hopper as well are just as soon here
to see as any other hep dead cat would be.
Om Daddy Nuprin. Best minds of my
generation, lost in that conflagration,
and - really - he don't know a thing.
Who would ever call themselves that?
Too hip for me, or not hip at all.
I am viewing art as sacrosanct.
That goes for it all - words, paint,
music maybe and magic too. I read
whatever I may into the big white clouds.
-
Om Daddy is sitting here with me, reading
his book. He's from Bratislava a long-time
back - and now he nods assent to, well, almost
anything American. Coffee in that cup and
that muffin in his hand. Oh well, too. I
watch, but I am not amused.
-
I want to ask instead : where is Cezanne?
Has Pollock or Rothko been here yet? Those
guys from the Cedar, can we meet them later?
deKooning, perhaps, both Elaine and Willem too?
Otherwise, I won't know what to do!
-
Who would ever call themselves that?
Those crazy 50's guys, those all-freaked-out
smokers with their tomes : hip fat-guy lumberjack
flannel laughter, fucking women wherever they are.
Coitus Intermingulus prophylactus nihilissimus bang!
Smack! Wallop! Om Daddy Nuprin ain't been there yet!
-
I'm just now realizing all these things, and
it's way too late for me. Harvey Keitel and
Dennis Hopper as well are just as soon here
to see as any other hep dead cat would be.
Om Daddy Nuprin. Best minds of my
generation, lost in that conflagration,
and - really - he don't know a thing.
2 comments:
All my favorite usual suspects. Sometime I think your commentary on my poetry is more poetic than my own and ten times more amusing. Hope all is well and I wish I could read and write more stuff. It's all the other crap that gets in the way.
Thanks Hawk o'the night. Great hearing from you...and I really did like your poem, and had fun writing the response to it.
Keepeth in touch.
Gary
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