Sunday, September 16, 2012

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
more in one world planet
escape the ground
            and twice as many
splinter groups
bend hate out of the tough
facade that is family
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