POEMS
BY KIM KERZE
2
Illustration
: William Burroughs by Paul O’DONOVAN
W.S.B.
(forerunner)
With the sharp dress sense of a gangster
a wild oscillating sense of the future & a
tongue laced
with Reich, Goethe, Hammett & Will
Shakespeare
he stitches up the slackjawed
mouths
of his adoring followers. Pray tell, they
manage
to whisper.
Aaahm. he clears his throat — a larynx
caressed with sandpaper — and wipes
a finger
over his lips. Poised like a hunter before his
prey
he starts a routine, sourced from his
stewardship
in the intestines of Tangier,
He’s the pioneer cybernetic trickster. Death,
his constant companion, is like a stiff drink
sliding down his throat in late
summer;
it puts him at ease. Otherwise, he’s always
on guard & always in Space / tripping out
on the orgone trail /
floating morphine thru his veins
burrowing deeper into the sources of
pain
& with a wry iconic smile, his rubbing out of the word
& the folding in of time predicted Aids, Anthrax
The
a specialist in counter clockwise
intelligence, & the axis
of fear and control, he truly was
a spoon & dropper transmitter // receiving
\\ telegramming
the most urgent of reports — whole sky burning — thumbprint
ink on the most relevant of pages.
Washington who knew
his formidable reputation in these matters chose to ignore
the details of his deft, unguent patter & look the other way.
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