Above, As Below

The landscape of ovary ripoff seclusions

bombarded into gangs, inclusions for life,

secrecy the manhood between their legs as

the overpopulated rats turned into mice:

            above them

            in Las Vegas condominiums

            oriental jet lag & lost dimensions

            turned the rat-race Americans into

Secrets beyond control.

Gangs had only the dare, the cop-out, the chicken

to avoid being square as they sniffed

and drew their designs of hate calligraphy

down through the halls of City Hell,

ever downward the road shot up through their arms

as the girls learned too, to scar women.

            No different were

            the Halls of Royal Hill

            in the non-hell plaything

            of Whitman's lost America

            high up in corporate supposed innocence

            behind closed doors in taxicabs

            first-class diamonds touching

            forest fall out

to afford any kinky thing you wished

build your mansion number two above

the hearing of the can-toters &

graffiti worshippers--

the ovarian landscape sinking

into a poison of itself

            the City of Security

dumping, madly, anything, protected by buddies on

the City Council

down the drain,

and blaming the housewife's bad water

on her infrequent chlorine.

           

            Linked from Las Vegas, New York, Chicago

            linked in arms from L.A. Hong Kong linked

            Tokyo & Philadelphia linked

            Bonn, Carthage, the Middle East. Icons of power

            in a downplay of history, the men

            with fat ties have no

            moral disgust

            and the Christians are wheedling ninnies.

The gangs are all that is left of moieties

secrets in the shared dark

tattooed upside-down crosses

covered by handshakes:

            there is no

economic belonging down here as

the mirror image up there of

the beheaded saints of tomorrow

the corporate lesions of world hate

teaches security in the classroom

the gangs circling the schools

for victims.

One wrong look, one step beyond

the rivaling suffering black men

and factions rule the world more

possibilities of different packs

breaches of contract, rivaling

rivalries, as

the poor get more

of themselves only,

the only heroes the billionaire

football players, the sports facade

of corporate bustling.

            How do I get out

join, join, but not a union

when you have no work and

your buddies pull you down spread

disunion all around

            billions

more in one world planet

            can't

escape the ground

            and twice as many

splinter groups

bend hate out of the tough

facade that is family

non-planning.

You can't be too tough

to die.

To die is the why

            for your buddies

            while above

you live in lawyer's arms,

a paid jostling out of prison

in mansion number three

your numbers are populating

as the rich get more

of the poor,

and the last plan is after

all female earth parts

are beyond recall

to stamp out the inner city:

exterminate the warring poor,

concentrate them to work

building your pyramids

of abundant rape

and the wealthy fascist Las Vegas heaven

the Super-Rich knows

your call girl

is just as rich as you.

larry goodell / placitas, new mexico / 15Jan92

              from Lizard Bowl, poems 1992

San Ysidro de Placitas retablo painted by Juan Wijngaard of Corrales, New Mexico