[Wichita Vortex Sutra]
5
Thy sins are forgiven, Wichita !
Thy lonesomeness annulled, O Kansas dear !
as the western Twang prophesied
thru banjo, when lone cowboy walked the railroad track
past an empty station toward the sun
sinking giant-bulbed orange down the box canyon —
Music strung over his back
and empty handed singing on this planet earth
I’m a lonely Dog, O Mother !
Come, Nebraska, sing & dance with me —
Come lovers of Lincoln and Omaha,
hear my soft voice at last
As Babes need the chemical touch of flesh in pink infancy
lest they die Idiot returning to Inhuman —
Nothing —
6
So, tender lipt adolescent girl, pale youth,
give me back my soft kiss
Hold me in your innocent arms,
accept my tears as yours to harvest
equal in nature to the Wheat
that made your bodies’ muscular bones
broad shouldered, boy bicept —
from leaning on cows & drinking Milk
in Midwest Solitude —
No more fear of tenderness, much delight in weeping, ecstasy
in singing, laughter rises that confounds
staring Idiot mayors
and stony politicians eyeing
Thy breast,
O Man of America, be born !
7
Truth breaks through !
How big is the prick of the President?
How big is Cardinal Viet-Nam?
How little the prince of the F.B.I., unmarried all these years !
How big are all the Public Figures?
What kind of flesh hangs, hidden behind their Images ?