posted September 17, 2007 03:16 PM         

America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go f^@k yourself with your atom bomb
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don't think he'll come back it's sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I'm trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I'm doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven't read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for
murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I'm not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
I won't say the Lord's Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over
from Russia.

I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
producers are serious. Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.

Asia is rising against me.
I haven't got a chinaman's chance.
I'd better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
twentyfivethousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I'm a Catholic.

America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his
automobiles more so they're all different sexes
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they
sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the
workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party
was in 1935 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother
Bloor made me cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have
been a spy.
America you don're really want to go to war.
America it's them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia's power mad. She wants to take
our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader's Digest. her wants our
auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers.
Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I'd better get right down to the job.
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts
factories, I'm nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

posted September 21, 2007 06:50 PM         

Thanks for the vids HSC.

posted September 21, 2007 06:57 PM         

End of Vietnam War
by Allen Ginsberg

Come along, come along
the end of Vietnam war
dirty smart bombs and napalm
and US army ******
come along, come along
hey baby don't be late
come along, come along
let's celebrate Watergate
Come along, come along,
Poor Nixon's in his home,
Come along, come along
Sitting under Teapot Dome
come along come along
forget their heroin
smoke some grass and relax
and forget your bloody wine
come along, all-americans
and let's be number two
number one was a pissy-assed act that we all went through
come along, save the whales
and save the humans, too
and the ladies and the fairies
and the communists true blue
come along out of the cold war
the planet is still here
we got to save our mama
nothing more we have to fear
come along and let the people
and the other species rare
breathe again vast space the cleaned out US air
come along without your fission
and if you fusion choose
first make sure you don't
burn up the very ground you use
come along, without you pistol
without your policeman's badge
secret *** injul traders shooting up themselves in colored rage
come along without your police state
come along without your power
come along just as you are
really naked for an hour
you have all your life to wear your clothes
ninety years to milk your cow
come along and breathe together
and conspire to be here now
come along, come along
the hour is at hand
when all this mighty nation
that smokes across the land
can wake up again
and shake off our Indochina scream
and hear eight hundred thousand orphaned babies they all dream
come along, oh modern nation
and get down on your knees
and ask the gods and buddas up there???
to forgive us if they please
we have killed two million people
we have wounded millions more
and fifteen million refugees are waiting at our door
so come along humble an act ???
to please mankind
cut down on our electrical delight has made us blind
to the stars and all the birdies
and the coyotes and the babes???
we have seen without the seeing buried under brimstone waves
come along, come along
the war is over now
indochina is independent and we are friends with Mao
the war is over yea, the war is over here
and now begins the battle to make our souls more dear
come along, come along
and empty out your mind
of all the american garbage
we cast out into wine
all the law and order chatter
that the gansters sold us fools
all the military clatter
and their costly useless tools
we need more arms and farmers
we need to work the land
we need to get down on our knees
and seed with our own hands
the earth we stand on top of
the earth we have bombed out
come along, come along
**** holy shout, yea
come along in tallahasse
come along in idaho
kick the military cops out
let all secret agents go
to the unemployment office
down here
we've lost it all