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Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen - Страница 100


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the wrong alchemical formula for transforming earth into gold

               —funky warlocks operating on guesswork,

                    handmedown mandrake terminology

                         that never worked in 1956

     for gray-domed Dulles,

                         brooding over at State,

               that never worked for Ike who knelt to take

                    the magic wafer in his mouth

                         from Dulles’ hand

                    inside the church in Washington:

Communion of bum magicians

          congress of failures from Kansas & Missouri

     working with the wrong equations

     Sorcerer’s Apprentices who lost control

          of the simplest broomstick in the world:

                         Language

O longhaired magician come home take care of your dumb helper

     before the radiation deluge floods your livingroom,

                         your magic errandboy’s

                         just made a bad guess again

                    that’s lasted a whole decade.

NBCBSUPAPINSLIFE

     Time Mutual presents

          World’s Largest Camp Comedy:

                    Magic In Vietnam—

     reality turned inside out

          changing its sex in the Mass Media

          for 30 days, TV den and bedroom farce

Flashing pictures Senate Foreign Relations Committee room

     Generals faces flashing on and off screen

                              mouthing language

      State Secretary speaking nothing but language

      McNamara declining to speak public language

          The President talking language,

               Senators reinterpreting language

          General Taylor Limited Objectives

                         Owls from Pennsylvania

               Clark’s Face Open Ended

                         Dove’s Apocalypse

                         Morse’s hairy ears

      Stennis orating in Mississippi

               half billion chinamen crowding into the

                              polling booth,

          Clean shaven Gen. Gavin’s image

                              imagining Enclaves

               Tactical Bombing the magic formula for

               a silver haired Symington:

      Ancient Chinese apothegm:

                         Old in vain.

          Hawks swooping thru the newspapers

               talons visible

          wings outspread in the giant updraft of hot air

                    loosing their dry screech in the skies

                              over the Capitol

Napalm and black clouds emerging in newsprint

      Flesh soft as a Kansas girl’s

                    ripped open by metal explosion—

      three five zero zero on the other side of the planet

          caught in barbed wire, fire ball

          bullet shock, bayonet electricity

      bomb blast terrific in skull & belly, shrapneled throbbing meat

While this American nation argues war:

          conflicting language, language

                    proliferating in airwaves

      filling the farmhouse ear, filling

          the City Manager’s head in his oaken office

          the professor’s head in his bed at midnight

          the pupil’s head at the movies

               blond haired, his heart throbbing with desire

               for the girlish image bodied on the screen:

                         or smoking cigarettes

                         and watching Captain Kangaroo

                         that fabled damned of nations

                         prophecy come true—

Though the highway’s straight,

      dipping downward through low hills,

      rising narrow on the far horizon

          black cows browse in caked fields

               ponds in the hollows lie frozen,

                         quietness.

Is this the land that started war on China?

      This be the soil that thought Cold War for decades?

      Are these nervous naked trees & farmhouses

                         the vortex

                    of oriental anxiety molecules

      that’ve imagined American Foreign Policy

          and magick’d up paranoia in Peking

                    and curtains of living blood

                         surrounding far Saigon?

Are these the towns where the language emerged

      from the mouths here

                    that makes a Hell of riots in Dominica

      sustains the aging tyranny of Chiang in silent Taipeh city

100
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