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  An American Odyssey

coming soon…


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for

Ferlinghetti     Ginsberg

Snyder

& other poets of the American frontier

 

(Thanks to Sybil for the trip)

 


'Can you tell me where we're heading

Lincoln County Road or Armageddon’

(Dylan)

 

‘Why, we are, as you see, upon the Enchanted Ground; and, as I was coming along, I was musing with myself of what a dangerous nature the road in this place was; and how many, that had come even thus far on pilgrimage, had here been stopped and been destroyed.’

(Bunyan, The Pilgrim’s Progress)

 


the Terminal is where my flight begins

latterday son of the Pilgrim Fathers

bred in a cold puritanical land

 

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take a lift

on metal bird

cross the Great Water

to the Other Side

 

inflight video called Coming Home

to roost perhaps

no I am not a Vietnam Veteran

but yes I guess I still carry some scars

 

head in the thunder-clouds

giddy as god

I’ve left my island far behind

look down on a continent

and think

Whitman you should be living at this hour

 

***

 

first stop Chicago

Chicago Chicago

skyscraper Babel

 

quick hop to Texas

Amarillo as in the song

this is the place they assemble the warheads

 

then I get driven

jaggedly jet-lagged

into next state

 

border roadsign bears the legend

Land of Enchantment

bienvenidos

I’m enchanted mam I’m sure

 

***

 

this is an Indian Summer in Fall

between the New World and Old Mexico

 

Yucca grows tall in the dusty small town

sand on the sidewalk here

the desert’s near

sprinklers on the burnt-out lawns

air-conditioned everywhere inside

 

curfew at noon

amid the blaze

I play blind Samson

in dark glasses

a mad dog

or an Englishman abroad

ignore the Don’t Walk sign

and walk

to get almighty dollar$ from the drive-in bank

 

rednecks yell from a pick-up truck

rowdy rodeo and cowboy hats

 

why don’t I slay some philistines

I could but for this convict crewcut

 

fallout shelter in the best hotel

hell-hole hideout

case the house falls down

 

high noon now

do not forsake me

 

***

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Model T Ford at the County Fair

Exhibit A in the trial of the century

that’s how we got to here from there

by Cadillac and Chevrolet

 

now the auto’s automatic

going flat-out to be upwardly mobile

 

today’s hard drive

to stay alive

move with the times

 

chase that mirage

in the heat haze

receding water on the road

 

on our left the grave of Billy the Kid

killer outlaw on the run

shot by sheriff

just desert

 

and

the Mesa

miles glide swiftly

in this movie

viewed thru the wound-down window’s frame

a natural history documentary

 

suddenly it’s wild

cartoon

 

Road Runner Road Runner

clown of the West

dicing with death between the wheels

at speed

 

why did it

why did it cross the road

 

then the well-worn song on the soundtrack

Route 66

a long rough ride

over Indian bones

clickety-click

Route 66

freeway to progress

collapsing

subsiding back

into honey-combed ground

 

savages warned

White Man knew better

 

we get our kicks

 

***

 

stay one night in a neon motel

at Santa Rosa

anywhere else would be much the same

 

standard fittings

Gideon’s Bible and holy screen

 

TV now the world religion

millions in communion

worship surface images

 

turn on tune in

for culture shock

 

not Dallas but the Mayor of Casterbridge

Farfrae doing a Scottish jig

Farfrae Farfrae far frae hame

 

Laurel and Hardy is predictable

Doubting Thomas with the laurels

gives pause for thought

 

there must have been Scots settlers once

notice the place names on the map

Melrose McAlister McIntosh

 

***

 

here at last the real McCoy

or simulacrum of the same

 

with six pack and tobacco

sit back enjoy the show

 

the world of sport

the killing game

big fight beamed live

 

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salute this flag

or colored rag

 

doctor I see stars and stripes

in front of my eyes

 

black man sings

Land of the Free

at a price

some can’t afford

 

zap that remote

it’s your choice of channels

this is a Democracy

whose side are you on

 

a word from our sponsors

vote for the good guys

that means US

we stock the latest weapons

great special F/X

 

for power at your fingertips

zap that remote

 

you’re in consumer heaven

we give you all this rope

57 varieties

sitcom or soap

whatever we can sell

from televangelic

to bulletins from hell

 

so it’s only chewing gum

so loses its flavor

you still go on chewing

it won’t make you fat

we could feed the starving millions

with more of that

 

seeing is believing

would we tell you any lies

 

what’s the difference

between news and adverts

the same sincere

insistent voice

puts viewers wise

 

when you’ve said Budweiser

you’ve said it all

 

***

 

O culinary Americana

the menu’s cornucopian

 

my cup of coffee runneth over

I’m new-baptised in Coca Cola

 

and this is verily the Promised Land

that flows with malted milk and money

 

wake in the morning and it’s sunny-side up

pumpkin or apple pie-in-the-sky

 

here’s a leaning tower of pizzas

there’s McDonald’s duck with french fries

 

put your snout in the trough

if you’re hungry mister

 

***

 

Sangre de Christos

mountains to climb

bridge over the Rio Grande

guidebook in hand

 

Taos way

in Lawrence’s footsteps

 

Hopi dancers circle squares

amusing tourists

 

the Indians have their reservations

 

to prove I’ve been there

send a postcard

 

picture of the old Pueblo

rockhard their abode’s adobe

cornbread baking in an outdoor oven

 

fossils and artefacts in museums

turquoise trinkets from the natives

 

follow the conquistadores

railroad track to Santa Fe

 

mission church with spiral staircase

steps of the Son

ascending heavenwards

declared a miracle of intricate construction

no crucial nails to fix the dovetailed joints

made by a fair-haired carpenter

stranger who simply disappeared

maybe an angel in disguise

 

hallucinations of the heat

Hispanic blood in the melting pot

 

single seņorita in a crowded piazza

flamenco man with blue guitar

 

I take a sneaky snapshot

no better than the rest

 

***

 

of course they came from Spain

and now northwards

nightly  to infiltrate

a fatal flawed imperial frontier

 

there are theories about migration

from Asia and even Outer Space

 

they’ve been around

a long time here

eleven thousand years or so

Paleoindians

the oldest tribe

their stone-age knives

obsidian

the cutting edge

one molecule

stripped mammoth skin

 

it’s Clovis Man

 

you too can be

like some old hippy in clover

at the local Head Shop browsing

its skins its pipes its

homegrow magic mushroom kits

a shaman’s garden

aimed at Eden

 

***

 

to me the landscape’s alien

tho I don’t see thru Martian eyes

 

cattle cottonfield and peanut country

windmills and artesian wells

 

solar collectors

a host of golden

wild sunflowers

brighten the air

 

the traveller’s journey isn’t yet done

 

deep water takes me by surprise

oasis lake

its rainbow colors in an oil-black mirror

my reflection and the sky’s

 

out in the boondocks

beware of snakes

 

***

 

drive off

drive on

drive into sundown

 

some enchanted evening

 

a lucky strike of Acapulco gold

under the big round harvest moon

 

stoned as any student

I stagger to the campus gig

live onstage a Latin band

plays the universal language

music

electric

pulsing light

like science fiction

flying saucer frisbees soar

above the crowd

the stars are singing

 

crickets click at sultry midnight

Buddy Holly still raves on

cut his tracks in wax at Clovis

killed in a plane crash

flew too close to the blazing sun

 

I whistle in the dark

a jolly tune

 

more fear than loathing

more hope than fear

better to travel hopefully

 

lost alone in downtown nowhere

ask a friendly cop with gun

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transported onwards as I sleep

 

heap more travelling ahead

 

***

 

one day the sun rose twice in the east

a little east of Radium Springs

east of the town of Truth or Consequences

 

regular guy

worked at White Sands

Missile Range

twenty one years

died of cancer

flew too high

read it in the mourning paper

 

Navajo ghosts haunt Alamogordo

birthplace of nightmares

Jornado del Muerto

a very hot spot

ground zero

Trinity site

the Holy Spirit in a tongue of flame

turned sand to glass

 

the darkest hour

5:29:45 a.m.

 

mine eyes have seen the glory

of the blinding bright white light

 

then spoke the Thunder

 

shatterer of worlds

 

all that before breakfast

 

have a nice day

 

***

 

O W.A.S.P. there is thy sting

you who were born again

believe in fairy tales

American Dream

Amen

 

come Columbus Day

the big parade

 

and then Thanksgiving

 

***

 

bought the perfect souvenir

a can of that Budweisser beer

 

at the Customs I shall swear

I have nothing to declare

 

***

ENVOY

 

the desert Resurrection plant

rehydrates in English rain

 

returning East what seemed so dead

starts to come alive again

 

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(New Mexico 1979)

 

 

‘From fall to revelation, a mean riff all the way, as an Englishman abroad meets Buddy Holly, D.H.Lawrence, Milton, Blake, Walt Whitman (& Disney), T.S.Eliot, et al. (spot the allusions) in this road movie journal/journey into the dark heart of the American psyche. An eschatological, phantasmagoric ride down Route 66 & beyond.’

 

 

 

 AMERICAN? AMERICAN’T!

 

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