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Peter Magliocco |
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THINKING ABOUT ART & LIFE (AFTER MY 50TH BIRTHDAY HANGOVER) Now what of our gray hair & 60s' idealistic principles gone to drydock hell? So hard to pretend not being bourgeois despite underground pretensions. What is "underground" these days, if not boho-banking in plastic instead of Armani suits, or waiting for trendy tattoos with your name above the nipple ring. Begin by breaking new cyberground in a virtual redefining of ourselves & what we really believe in -- by writing real poetry from the seat of a Buick-6 & not your mother's closet, with laptops painting prophylactics of Zen downloading cave ceilings with magic markers, let's see God recreate Adam in our imago for that digital fresco masterpiece beyond the censoring shame of cultural-castrations. unsent postcard from the left bank (#23) that's me, jaded American in Paris your shady "doctor" lost by the train station stumbling on white walkways cobbled by history's dust snaking its untied ribbon over a meandering grayness local terrorists dream of igniting a reign of disarray halting that blurring traffic maelstrom your Canon eyes photogenically flash like rouged genitals under gauzy silk recalling, how in duress, we discovered the feast of some pope's wayward son there reverently washing our bodies in that old hotel room's drab pallor "not a fetish-thing at all" you said mystified by fey ablution while during your abortion planting soft arches on pillowed ground your camcorder captured a Man Ray still-life tinted by invisible brooding tongues Allah's guillotines sever daily outside through the amber pane's splintering a fossil footprint love left us the blown-up "baby" bomb's picture in living color -- an ectoplasmic shadow's faux christening hip-hop hamlet's born again daydream (non-parable #'0) prozac eyes stumble thru ozones as old H-bomb tests cling to the Bush family spirit-remains beyond what pale deaf mutes sing for animals speaking in tongues to avant-garde artists like black-hatted German Joseph Beuys lining culture tombs with felt-fattiness (eaten by ghosts of holocaust victims future generations are haunted by tangents of non-linear completion in white-face J.B. taught our pet hare how human hypocrisy abrades truth for the rotting dictionary of e-scribes meanings vanish as immaterial parables parrots peck from mankind's legacy) as the galactic starlight freezes deserted drive-in movie screens the last earthly survivor melts words for lost masterpieces |