3 Mar 2008

Channel (an early experiment)


World spills out womb of image… a flower blooms and retreats… windrush valley condenses into cloud… I see the Earth’s skeleton… I see decaying bone with marrow spilling out deep desert cracks… I’ll drink the marrow… now I am GOD

what of the elastic skeletons of mankind? with your muscle dripping from the holster a BULLET through cortex tissue a thousand years KNOWLEDGE drying in an amoebic pool of its own blood drink the blood now you will become GOD
universal theory for acquisition
of divinity = MURDER

a million tiny blood vessels
a dead tree on the horizon
framework on the ground like
poppy field flOWers
blOOM in the recycled
ribcage of the obsolete
once a man told me that there was a
tree of life
and that
everything
had a rea-
son soon
after they drop-
ped the bomb
and the man
and his family
came apart like
incinerated automobile

what of your shrapnel of human flesh? with one golden throne built on our backs with the wave ripples of our weakness they sky is grass green and the grass is all dead my eyes flicker









The earth cracks open like an egg and all trace of divinity leaks out like heroin from a syringe stars soak in fluid on junk kick HEAVEN holocaust watch the galaxy incinerate like strings of dynamite on a switch fireworks in the universe dust settles then I cough and on the outer cuffs of the milky way it is the only sound left:
-----
From a crater a mushroom cloud emerges a tree pokes its head out of the soil and spreads its wings and with one commanding breath shrapnel DEBRIS collect and start to put themselves back together with an old withered hand outstretched from neglected earth drops a seedling into the ground pats soil on top of it planet shimmers with hope I cough and


Nobody hears me

where were you when the bomb dropped?

-impossible to forget-


but forget the bomb
it is insignificant
with assistance of LSD
I managed to convince
myself that existence
runs on a channel
and life
---------------------------------------------------------> is just a sidetrack
dying is insignificant


RE IN CAR NA TION – MA CHINE



Everything runs back into:

C
H
A
N
N
E
L

6 comments:

Robert said...

another stunner, Forrest

youre like a darker Philip Lamantia with the incredible, blazing visual imagery and the cosmic, mystical vibe

Forrest Armstrong said...

Thank you very much, Robert :-)

Never heard of Philip Lamantia... someone worth looking into?

cocaine jesus said...

i have no idea who philip lamantia is either but if he is half as good as forrest then i will check him out.

even more leftfield forrest. keep it up.

Robert said...

Philip Lamantia was an early mentor to Ginsberg, a bridge between the surrealists and the Beats

Book of Sphinxes is a jammy for the ages

and Forrest, i accepted your story, i just cant send the message from the submissions box at The StarFish for some reason...thanks so much again!

Forrest Armstrong said...

That's great news, Robert! Thanks! When does the next issue come out?

Robert said...

we're on anarcho-surrealist time :)

a monthish?