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you shall above all things

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12/6/05 08:48 pm - e.e. cummings "22"

you shall above all things be glad and young
For if you're young,whatever life you wear

it will become you;and if you are glad
whatever's living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love

whose any mystery makes every man's
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time

that you should ever think,may god forbid
and (in his mercy) your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave
called progress,and negation's dead undoom.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance

12/29/04 04:04 pm - Cocker/Senior/Mackey/Doyle/Banks (Pulp) "Common People"

She came from Greece. She had a thirst for knowledge. She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College; that's where I caught her eye

She told me that her Dad was loaded. I said, "In that case I'll have rum and Coca-Cola."

She said, "Fine."

And then in 30 seconds time she said, "I want to live like common people. I want to do whatever common people do. I want to sleep with common people.

I want to sleep with common people like you."

Well what else could I do? I said "I'll see what I can do."

I took her to a supermarket. I don't know why, but I had to start it somewhere, so it started there.

I said, "Pretend you've got no money," but she just laughed
and said, "Oh you're so funny."

I said "Yeah, Well I can't see anyone else smiling in here.

Are you sure
you want to live like common people?
You want to see whatever common people see?
You want to sleep with common people?
You want to sleep with common people like me?"

But she didn't understand. She just smiled and held my hand.

Rent a flat above a shop, cut your hair and get a job, smoke some fags and play some pool,
pretend you never went to school, but still you'll never get it right,
'cos when you're laid in bed at night, watching roaches climb the wall. If you called your dad he could stop it all.

You'll never live like common people.
You'll never do whatever common people do.
You'll never fail like common people.
You'll never watch your life slide out of view, and then dance and drink and screw because there's nothing else to do.

Sing along with the common people.
Sing along and it might just get you through.
Laugh along with the common people.
Laugh along, although they're laughing at you, and the stupid things that you do because you think that poor is cool.

Like a dog lying in a corner, they will bite you and never warn you: look out.

They'll tear your insides out.

'Cos everybody hates a tourist, especially one who thinks it's all such a laugh.

Yeah and the chip stain's grease will come out in the bath.

You will never understand how it feels to live your life with no meaning or control and with nowhere else to go.

You are amazed that they exist and they burn so bright whilst you can only wonder why.

12/6/04 08:47 pm - Allen Ginsberg "America"

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 fuck 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.
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