The
Ram Inn
your
name in lights
flashing
a welcome smile
behind
the eight-ball of sex,
velvet
art & trompe l’oeil
faux
swimming pools-
night
clerks like a cross
between
Lurch & Tom Waits
shamble
& shuffle
rant
& rave Re:
the
fake sincerity of architecture
&
work on their thesis:
The
Transactional Analysis
of
the Illicit Underground Basis
of
Capitalism as Exemplified
by
Doctor Benway for Economics
of
American Literature 101
at
the Community College
endowed
anonymously
by
the biggest players
in
the porn industry
while
Ray Bremser
haunts
the hallways pistol in hand
&
any lip reader can see
he
is snarling “ this is a stickup “
&
Bob Kaufman runs bleeding
thru
the lobby mouthing a manifesto
about
the fools gold of crowded
sardine
cans-
Maxwell
Bodenheim
&
his old lady have commandeered
the
bridal suite & are cruising
the
neighbourhood
looking
for death reenactors-
oh,
Ram Inn we love
your
creamy noodle rooms festooned
Welcome
Steroid Users
Weight
Room Open 24-7
pop
machines on every floor
&
a private emergency clinic
is
located directly across the road
group
rates available
for
bankers, mortgage brokers, politicians,
swingers
& combinations thereof-
oh,
eclectic electric Ram Inn
your
poetry drips into our minds
like
a Rorschach stain IV which coalesces
in
a red white &
blue transcendent
crescendo
that sounds something
like
love something that though disfigured
might
pass for love as empires decline
&
night offers the back of its bloody hand
to
day again.
Antonin Artaud Throws Down at the Lame-o Poetry Reading
Pain?
You don’t know anything about pain
you
fucking assholes
and
he gives everyone the jesters gesture:
the
finger.
Up
yours you tight-ass pricks.
Get
out get out and live
look
to apprehend your mind
when
it isn’t
looking
when
it isn’t drowning in masturbatory drivel
look
in the cruel theatre of blood and shit
where
the scripts are eaten raw
and
the sets are blank walls
chasing
down infinity.
I
know that I am real flesh in pain
but
what the fuck are you?
An
audience surrounded by an invisible fence
that
you project toward the stage.
I
seek the unity of my being
the
complete control of uninterrupted thought.
This
isn’t entertainment you fucking shits.
He
hurls two jello filled mannequins into the audience
and
tries to mount a right angle triangle.
He
fails and starts beating a gong.
Bleating
sheep enter stage left.
A space ship made from cardboard duct taped together
slowly drops from the ceiling and a blob thing
gets out and begins a tirade in a muffled strangled
speech
of nonsense syllables kkkaaaa zekzekkez
waknamfrak.
Antonin
stabs the blob repeatedly till it lies still
in
a pool of red jello .
An
old man in a white robe carrying a cross 3 times his size
with
a tarot card on the top surface begins to climb
an
inclined plane and when he gets to the top
he
slides back down. He continues to do this till the end of the performance.
Four
actors enter from the right wearing huge mask heads
six
times normal size: they are Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot
and
Vlad the Impaler. They begin to shout and scream
at
each other. Each in a crude form of their own language.
They
start to struggle with one another and a figure strolls
to
the center of the stage carrying a chair. He vaguely
resembles
the Marquis de Sade. He sits down opens up
his
coat and takes out a two foot phallus which he
begins
to stroke with a white gloved fat cartoon three
fingered
hand while throwing brown mud sausages
at
a wall with the other gloved hand as the now wrestling
masked
actors grunt and moan.
A
cannon in the floor under the chair shoots a blast
of
white confetti.
BLACKOUT
Antonin steps to the edge of the stage which is now a
shambles.
This
has been Escape From the Island of Lameos on the Good Ship
Jouissance. He bows and whispers adieu.
Dozens
of smoke bombs go off and amid the fire alarms and confusion the stage is
cleared.
gun play-
just a big kid
orange tip removed
The AI
like us had good intentions
first
they
killed
the
cows
Attaining the top rung…
the AI scanned the UAP
its message
welcome brother
reading Ishiguro-
you know something
will last
death of a toad-
orange stain
on a prison floor
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