from the middle of a burning building,
standing in the fast lane of the freeway
falling from the top of the Empire State Building.
rather than Gary Snyder.
rather than a Volvo to Bolinas.
rather than wait sullenly for a letter from some deceased clown with a three-piece mind, telling you that you’ve won a bulletproof pair of rose-colored glasses for your poem ”Autumn in the Spring”.
who teaches for a living.
get headaches, vomit, weep, scream, disappear, start bleeding,
eat their television sets,
beat each other to death with swords,
and go out and get riotously drunk
on someone else’s money
or dandle it on your knee like a retarded child
with beautiful eyes.
Instead, blow it up
or throw it off a cliff into icy seas
and see if the the motherfucker
can swim for its life.