Wacky angels

To Allen Ginsberg



Airports of my mind explode
I see panic in the eyes of Manhattan
I follow William Burroughs through the bedrooms of his veins
while little Daisy drowning in great lake Michigan
singing her last blues
oh God please don't step on my blue suede shoes
we are feral atonal and subversive
i see spider webs in the corners of wacky angel eye
Tremendous power they have to vomit the whole sky
last night i fucked Time Square boy
when he kissed me i saw Buddha in his purple heart
Imagine a world in a throat while i rip it open
I shed my foreskin and dance around William Boroughs bones
and wacky angels fill bedrooms of my daydreams
angels that born from the blood of wild orchids
we live in William Burroughs skin
Soft machine Buddha hiding under our flesh and bones
Now then and after
Zen and astral theater of disaster
Accords words snowing veins
Thoreau is dead but Walden is still burning
I see Tangier between William Burroughs eyes
Young boys and cats captured in the garden in his damaged brain
There is a whole bunch of cocksuckers sticking needles in the image of me
i left my mind behind bars and went out with a boy from Oklahoma i still in love with
Kenny and his tight ass of existence
Roaring silence of our love experience
his blood and semen in the empty glass of my bode
Airports of our brains crushed against the walls
and we fly away with wacky angels