Genseis

10 November 2014, 8:43 am

Genseis

Colkie McCulklen is dead
and the princss
see them move on the darkness
of the waters and the earth
the face of Charles Bronson in other words,
and Pacino the mohterfucker,
alas, alos dead.
Mr Brond and that guy in the red car,
and Jason Bored, the X-mint
and –womint, theyr ALL DEAD.

I remember Jane Seymour

in the formless voidacom.

Roudn of APPLAUSE. Thank you.

Eastwood sits on a chair, they clap.

He talks to the chair
but it don’t listen to him.

Thank you.

The stars are reams.

Hoffman is walking there, he’s walking there.
Gunnerman is gone.

The tsars are reams. Some
overdose, shoot up horse,
too much horse,
liquor the vicar, the priests
the girls, the boys molested:
catholics and imams, rabbis amd gurus
the sheiks of oil, of all, of old
of puppetry, colonial sahabi
ya habibi
and then the wahabi

theyr dead, all dead

reams of infamy

Bush, Obama, the whole dice dead,
Hillary gored
Bin Laden the seasoick
the US blergh

That Williams gut, bless his soul.
Hollywood got him, dead.

Bridges of bloody stone country.
(old reference, I have often noticed)

Look, ther they lie (or is it lay)
lifeless, broken on the riverbed.

We gawk at zombies.

Run, I say, run! Run, run, run!

But tomorroe, tomorrow
we’ll re-run with euphemism
terrorism vampirism liquid jism
put it in your foxcroft aphorism

(Turn around)
every now and then
I get nervous
that the best gears have all gone by

(Turn around)
Every now and then
I get terrified
But then I see the book in your eyes

and it solves nothing
not hunger nor truant artists
racists, anti-racists, non-
and multi-bloody-fuck-you-racists
poverty, the dread disease
the cabal of brouhaha
the ego of Cock, Dick & Penis Incorporated
the silent, dumb mass of you zombies
the arse-bend of Spidergrawl

the confunction of the bloggerbies:

Mistah Kurtz, the un-dead.

Marlow he solves not murder,
the crimbling stories
of the apiarists,
the ape-men, the old movies
re-done for tuppence
if I may speak colonial

May I?

Graceful. Magnanimous of you
that I can use these words
too
and be free
of white-wash-ionside-coconutism
and all my spelling blerrors

I am allowed?

Than you, than uou.

Now it divides
form from chaos
light from dark
and the cables are laid

and the internet buzzes
into life
and it saw that all was good


Still living in a B-movie

15 February 2010, 4:56 pm

…We just call it a blockbuster now.

“B-movie” (1981, off Reflections) has always been my favourite Gil Scott-Heron track, far more so than his most well-known “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” (1971, off Pieces of a Man), which now has lost it’s spark in any case through far too many ironic, counter-ironic and mangled quotations and misinterpretations. Obama’s election to presidency of the USA, for instance, led to many people saying that, finally, the revolution was being televised, trying to show they are hip to Gil Scott-Heron but taking a dig at him – his song  had finally lost its ostensible analytical edge. Few paused to think that the famous line really means that if it is televised, it is not a revolution. Which is really what the song, as analysis of the entertainment industry, is saying.

Read the rest of this entry »


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