RUDIMENTS, pt. 531
(nightmare nation/rumination)
Pt. 2 - Othello killed Desdemona:
It was never about
anything really and
if I had to tell you
you wouldn't get it
anyway : (piece-post
pell mell snackinfoo
and the riddle from
quark o'mania province) :
when I'm in a roomful
of people I'm an instantly
dangerous man looking
around for the one with
the gold and seeking
to find the girl from
Wysteria Weems, Ohio,
the old rubber town :
'we make nothing
anymore' the old-timer
says 'this dang country's
so far down the tubes
they can't even flush
it away...and when
I was a boy...' someone
else cuts him off 'shut
up you old bag of shit !
I'm sick of hearing you!'
and the guy walks off
with the handle to the
counterpunch cabinet
that held the weekly
list : so we had nothing
more to do and were
able to just sit there -
of course some jerk
soon brought out a
deck of cards (I surely
HATE people who play
cards) although I never
played, nor even ever
minded them before
the first but no matter
because whenever
they park their cars
they right away start
talking about their
daughters 'I'd never
let her go out with
THAT slimeball - fer'
Chrissakes he THINKS
with his dick I've heard
it said' and then the
door opens and in
comes some guy named
'Santerge', a minister's
kid and he quickly says
'Over here ! my father's
dying of the flu!' and I
ask 'well can't he just
pray for something
new?' meaning what the
hell - he's the minister
not me - but the kid
didn't get my meaning
and started screaming
instead - yelling about
his mother being dead
already and he'd be an
orphan so I slapped him
up to shut him down,
(like in the movies I'd seen,
some lame, flamboyant
gesture) and I said 'man shut
it ! you're only talking 'bout
the flu' and he said yeah
but he'd read somewhere
that in like 1918 it had
killed lots of people
real quickly and I said
'yes but that was long
ago - now the lines are
shorter and news travels
quicker' and that shut
him up so he went away
- but anyway when I
really did check I found
out that the flu among
all those 1918 people
was in reality (medical
science now says) an
endemic reaction by a
sort of mass-hallucination
of the myopic crazed
psychic fear and the
displacement caused
by WWI just ended,
amongst an American
populace un-used to
anything like that
before and although
this all may SOUND
weird it is really
true and documented
and a reputable point
of medical view (see
Harvard; see the
CDC in Atlanta - see
whomever you'd like
to see but DON'T see
me) - then the fire-bell
tolled and the harbor-wharf
was wiped clean with
some sort of Windex
slime rolled over by
wheels and a couple
hundred fish swam
up and began licking
the wood with their
crazy fish tongues
and then they all
rolled over and got
washed out to the
harbor again with
the next splash-wave
of wake and wind
together (something
I'd not ever seen
before) and the
beautiful girl on
the trundle-bed
nearby was playing
Hoagy Carmichel
on an old Victrola
and it all sounded
so nice I wondered
how but I didn't say
a word instead :
watching cartoon
characters take naps
and watching Lindy
Boggs (I think it was)
eating cereal on the rim
of the edge by the two
window panes at the
shaftway - she ate like
a pig but kept it all
clean : and then I
remembered that
dead Mayor of
Princeton - the nice
woman with eye-patch
- and I thought maybe
that was her name
too but really couldn't
remember and promised
myself to go look it up
next chance I had (got
a map of the graveyard
and know right where
she is) and then I saw
the mutant go by (he
was 'lazy good-looking
and aristocratic' as
my mother used to
say) but there was
nothing but marbles
in that cheesecake and
I knew it too - he was
brutish and in reality
as short as they come
with an even shorter
attention span (and
my sister used to say
'something shorter
than that too') so let's
just say 'GENIUS HE
WASN'T' and leave it
at that : heroes in my
life come and go -
Glenn Gould or Dicky
Betts it hardly matters -
and I could talk to anyone
if they would just hold still
- long enough for a riddle,
long enough to fish, long
enough to whittle, long
enough to piss - but
whether or not it makes
any sense never matters
and is never brought up
and this is the age of
wonders but I wonder
if anything will last
and that does it for me
- evergreen trees are
drying up dead -
climates which
change take old
trees away and the
world heaves and
moves in mysterious
ways - but never
mind that anyway
and truck farms grow
no trucks so don't go
looking just ask
anyone who knows
because those kinds
of people just love to
show off and tell
everyone what they
know BUT AS FOR
ME I've taken forever
a vow of shady silence
and a very nodding
acquaintance with it
all - so I won't even
point : in Germany
they train bears, and
in ancient Greece an
idiot meant someone
who did not take part
in public life : now of
course it means just
the opposite and how's
that for banana-cake?
-
I never try to be lazy,
I always stay busy, I'm
always on task, but there
are - and I admit - plenty
of things I was never good at.
At all. Changing those old
sink-washers and plumbing
and faucet things; I used to
hate that. And, before the
basic motorcycle went to
belt-drive, adjusting chains
was always a real bust
for me. I mean I did it,
but never good, and
never right. You can get
a good idea of your
motorcycle's 'tracking'
by moving it along in
light snow - to see
if the one wheel runs
right into line of the
other. It should. A
stupid guy's chain
adjust, it won't.
-
The only 'Savagery'
we should look
forward to is the
savagery of the day
when the cultural,
creative, light-sword-
wielding masses rise
up and smite these
forms of pestilence
in the name of the
One True Constant
- the creative and eternal
life-force which is our
Godhead. Gibbets,
crosses, crucifixion-hills
and torture palaces in
Hell are already set-up
for these one-dimensional
political types who go
through life understanding
nothing and forcing
the same on others.
Their eternal damnation
is already written.
They will die not
once, not twice,
but a hundred times.
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