AM-/AMBULATORY!/ JUST CANT TALK!
OH TO RETURN TO THE WOMB/ OF THE CLASSIC, TRADITION, accepted/ MORES CAST YOUR BRONZES ON THE/ WATERS./ POISED TENSE, READY, WHITE/READY WAITING./ - I CRY
TODAY NOW IS ALL WE/ REALLY KNOW. HISTORY/ A LIE. POSTERITY/ A MYTH ... LIFE / IS A SERIES OF NOWS./ THERE ARE REALLY/ NO "BIG DADDYS GODS"/ EACH OF US MUST/ LEARN BY EXPERIENCING/ OUR OWN NOW.
TO FRANZ/ what is a world/ with out/ color./ WILKES BARRE P.A./ SLAG. HEAPS like/ regurgitated MOUNTAINS./ then -/ WORLD WAR II a rejectee/ bum ticker, a/ regurgitated humanity/ black with/ FURNACES & death/ "what" could COLOR mean?/ color color/ is "LIFE"
I walk thru busy crowded streets/ pass bodies, grim & huddled tense/ blank faces held in terror/ the end has come — total/ inconceivable/ focus on one, he should be in his/ prime/ 40ish/ played out, deceived (perhaps self-/ deceived)/ TRUTH IS TO BEHOLD, - "HE" LOOKS/ AWAY./ LETS FORGET - WHO WANTS TO/ REMEMBER, BURY YOURSELF IN/ JAZZ, Le CINEMA, LOOK AWAY/ LOOK AWAY, IN DIXIELAND I'LL NOT/ TAKE ANY STAND TO LIVE & DIE./ THE FALSE WITNESS OF THE MYTH/ OF ROCK-N-ROLL, OF FRONTIERS & BLEEDING/ HEARTS & WAR ECONOMY.
Desire/ I crept at close inspection thru/ valley & ravine/ the slopes & hollows held my/ eye the hills./ I keenly spied with/ antenna all aware & finger tips/ so keen./ with pulse pulsating and/ nerves of full aware/ I went a hunting for/ vistas everywhere.
WHY WAR?/ ART IS DEAD!/ ITS PALLBEARERS/ THE MUSEUMS CLIQUES, DEALERS,/ CRITICS 4-ART HISTORIANS./ "ART" WITHOUT CONSCIENCE IS A/ CULTURE WITHOUT HOPE!!/ HOPLESSNESS LEADS TO BORE DOME/ + BORE DOME to HATE & HATE TO/ -WAR!! THERE MUST BE/ A (PSYCHOLOGICAL) REASON FOR/ WAR???/ MUSEUMS & GALLERIES ARE RUN BY/ A CLIQUE OF INTERNATIONAL/ FAGGOTS & EVERYONE KNOWS THAT/ FAGGOTS ARE MADE OF HATE, & / HATE DESTROYS! IS SICK!/ THE ONES THAT ARE NOT OUT -/ RIGHT FAGS ARE AC-DC. WHICH IS/ EVEN A MORE VERSATILE APPROACH TO/ COMPLETE DOMINATION
PIMPS OF CULTURE,/ VULTURES OF HEALTH./ - REFERRED TO AS POLITICS IN ART/ HOW CAN ART BE POLITICAL?/ ART MUST BE CRITICAL OF/ POLITICS!
REGRESSIVE, PERVERSE/ RARIFIED, PETRIFIED, VALUES/ MUST NOT PREVAIL./ WEVE REGAINED THE CONSCIOUS/ THE DRAMA IS IMMINENT.
the full mind, the rich nature/ makes itself felt in the/ tracing of a few vivid lines/ — the empty mind, the poor/ nature is betrayed in the most/ elaborate composition
All or nothing at all/ THE MOST IMPORTANT ROLE/ THAT ANY ART CAN PLAY IN A/ LIFE & DEATH STRUGGLE IS TO/ UNVEIL THE REALITIES OF "NOW"/ - ONLY ART CAN DO THIS./ EACH DAY ON AWAKENING/ WE MUST RECREATE THE WORLD/ A NEW.
ART IS DEAD! ITS PALL-/ BEARERS, THE MUSEUM CLIQUES, GALLERY CLIQUES, CRITIC CLIQUES, & ART HISTORIAN/ CLIQUES. LET US "RESURRECT" IT/ FROM THE DEBRIS TO A NEW!/ CONSCIOUSNESS/ AMBIGUITY RULES
THE ART WORLD./ THE NATURE OF THIS SICKNESS/ IS "DOOM" I PERHAPS THE/ REST OF US WHO ARE LESS CON-/ TAMINATED CAN RESURRECT/ FROM THE "DEBRIS" AND FROM/ THIS DEBRIS CREATE A NEW WORLD/ WE ARE NOT FOR A NEW LOOK/ OR A NEW SCHOOL OF ART./ WE DEMAND "ART" WITH MEANING/ IN TERMS OF NOW! ART WITH/ COURAGE TO SAY WHAT IT SEES!
NOT SOME "REMOTE" AMBIGUOUS/ INFERENCE, AN ALLUSION TO SOME/ SUBTLE INNUENDO ET AL. ETC .../ (WHY DO THEY GIVE US A COOK-/ BOOK, WHEN WE CRY OUT IN/ HUNGER?!) QUOTE/ THE TIME IS PERILOUS./ WHERE ARE THE CREATIVE/ FORCES FOR TRUTH (ART) HONOR/ (A DIRTY WORD?): COURAGE/ WILL BE THE BYWORD FOR "ART"/ FROM NOW ON - THE "NEW/ CATALYST!!! FOR A BETTER/ WORLD/JOIN US.
NOW/ WE DEDICATE OURSELVES/ TO THE "NOW"!!/ EVERYTHING ELSE IS MEANING/ LESS, USELESS WHEN CONFRONTED WITH/ THE NOW! THE KEY TO THE/ NOW IS ART/ WE ARE NOT EXPERIMENTING-/ SPACE TO US IN NOT AN AESTHETIC/ AREA BUT A LEBENSRAUM, TO WORK/ OUT OUR FEARS & HOPES-LOVES./ LET US KILL "AESTHETICS"./ ART IS NOT JUST THE BACKGROUND/ FOR HAPPENINGS BUT A PART OF THE/ DYNAMIC WHOLE.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW -,/ GLAD/ YOUR HERE/ REALLY/ LIKE A BOILER/ FACTORY!
my God "Leger" just/ died - his gospel/ false false — a pain/ in the ass — / Cezanne the cripple/ looking for his/ crutch/ Each day to be/ born again, to/ remake the universe/ without & a square &/ ruler /.../.../... meaningful
COULD I SLEEP FOR + HOURS/ I NEED/ STRENGTH
art is no longer/ a window of/ longing in a wall/ but a hole with soft/ edges blown into it/ with disintegrator gun/ overlooking our/ dilemma/ is the art of wallpaper/ to create a pleasant/ background for/ conversation/ Hail the new era!
than the game/ Stalin had clay feet/ & died & his/ disciples still all died/ too./ God is just behind/ the ... brow/ in the morning & by/ night sinks to the fleet/ a bulls eye is no/ longer a thing to/ be aimed at,/ but a background for / conversations
IMAGES (OR FORMS) OF/ YESTERDAY ARE TODAY/ DEAD DOORNAILS/ MORPHOLOGICAL IS/ PATHOLOGICAL-ART/ IS NOT PSYCHIATRY/ ART IS NOT AN OMNIBUS/ BUT AN ELEVATOR/ HAPPENINGS ARE/ COFFE CLACHES/ WHERE THE BLIND LEAD/ THE BLIND. INVOLVEMENT/ A MONOLOGUE.
ARE DRAMAS OF/ DIALOGUE WHERE THE/ SOULS REACH OUT FOR/ A COMMON HUMANITY./ OPPOSITES ARE NOT THE/ SAME IN REALITY/ (ONLY IN THEORY) THE/ ASS IS NOT THE HEAD.
LETS INVENT A MACHINE/ THAT TURNS OUT ONLY/ ORIGINAL OBJECTS/ PEOPLE ARE AS PREDICTABLE/ AS COKE BOTTLES &/ MILK CARTONS ETC./ ARCHITECTURE RELEGATES/ MAN TO THE IMAGE OF/ AN ANT.
they don’t/ leave you/ alone for one/ second 24 hrs/ a day needless/ needless/ MOVIE for DOMINIC/ what happened/ to him do you
being me my own/ pyjamas "brand/ new"/ may I have a/ wheel chair?
YOU KNOW/ THEY STICK YOU WITH/ NEEDLES/ WHEN YOUR ASLEEP/ THEY FEED YOU ASLEEP
THEY SAY THE TUBE/ IS UPSETTING MY STOMACH
"beauty" is a trap/ "grace" is pitfall/ life is the dream/ time the illusion
Supplement by Boris Lurie: Frontline culture soldiers confrontation artists fade away, too. Sam Goodman died of cancer of the throat, age forty-eight, April 29, 1967 at Montefiori Hospital, New York City. — Uncompromising NO!artist of the Sixties, co-author of Doom, NO, and Shit-Show, the latter glorifying New York art-world in particular—amongst other more theoretical objectives; co-author of “American Way of Death” — just a short time before his own demise. A challenger and provoker of the powerful—as well as of the weak. Sketches for manifestoes and scribbled communications while deprived of ability to communicate orally; then the switching-off of life's light bulb—but not on heroic battlefields of culture-challenge and of contestation. No, slow death cries out for new pajamas, “brand new”, for a wheelchair, "I need strength"! in scribbles, protest is even here as loud as the scribbling is noiseless. No winners at the cancer ward.