Charles Talkoff

     Subterranean Beat Funeral Oration and Resurrection Vol III

     Chicagoland in bursts of November chill the winter earth marching to become everything all in snow shrouded anticipation and trees now silent in gray overcoats without birds sad ghost coughing bloody words and Bop lamentations votive chrome heavy stolen cars charging hard across Benzedrine freeways the nativity scene of an old Denver pool hall spontaneous beer sign in neon as leather angels in the wicked rain of iron designs becoming ice puddles of reflected ancestors at work in the theater of cruelty and Walden Pond voluptuous village of New York open veins of Hudson River and San Francisco Bay puzzle map of Turtle Island in the Trickster Monkey mist of time queer record store gallery sex reading of new sutras Bop apocalypse herald in blue cloud of tea know everything bohemians in reckless pursuit of shadows Jazz workshops full of buzz saws and underground turnstiles rows of old Brooks Brothers suits freighters to Liverpool to deliver the gospel of the Blues to be consummated and driven on the other side of the road to stir the prophet of Minnesota to arrive in Greenwich and become electric rejecting Judas silver saying I don't believe you the collateral chaos and damage of Mexico City murder suicide songs and smooth skinned boys opening as cicadas in Tangier gardens heavy black telephones emerge from the hive buzzing in the wall consuming junk sick saints themselves cannibals who remember the virgin and the dynamo piston of the soft machine humming empire trains unblinking eyes comatose in suburban fantasy erotic containers of plastic in mid-century kitchens at war with television images of children set on fire running naked down roads vanished as pillars of smoke and mountains of luggage and shoes haunting the mind in ragged costumes of beggars in search of peace and orgasmic relief sing the song of America the myth of the silent generation souls locked in mind ghettos passports stamped with suspicion the sage of Patterson grows old his nerves are bad tonight he shows a path through ghost factories he weeps before flowers in the great seed heavy vaginal spring asks who is born again and walks towards Bethlehem Steel smoke signals drift spread their angelic wings words are buried in the soil they sprout visions no one can breathe underwater in the forgotten castles of the earth take off your sunburnt hat atomic cherry tree and grow again the rhythm of the night cafe.

     Dostoyevsky Sings the Blues 

     Dostoyevsky sings the Blues that Russian scat he hears the firing squad breathe history clicks like the bolt of a rifle it's another beautiful day in the houses of the dead the marble in his head rolls to the slot where god is sleeping the angels stand in a circle watching the sign on the door says do not disturb he slips into the pocket of heavens overcoat the czar is on hold the elevator music version of Hey Jude whispers through the receiver a recording of Saint Peter cuts in says all of our representatives are currently assisting other customers please try again later the permafrost evaporates bones appear as a map that is the territory an old woman standing 
in a line three days long recognizes the ghost of Anna Akhmatova and in a graveyard whisper asks can you describe this.

     Charles Olson Big Like Nantucket in a Storm

     Charles Olson big like the first joy of love and a donut fresh with coffee big like Nantucket in a storm holds Herman Melville in one mighty hand and in the other some dream of the new world in the forever spring of its opening song in the blue honey mist of the earth born again he understands the ink spilled night is a priest speaking in tongues.