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Sunday, June 30, 2013

Glorious Sex

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            I was young

I thought good sex, I mean, glorious all out sex

            would save the world

Save not only from devastation of war

            but save the material of the planet

I was young and so was she

We dropped and as dawn broke

            slowly over coyote mountains

                        onto the Santa Clara valley

(After experiencing ego dissimulation

            reconstructing our personalities

                        with what was revealed

            our son's name Cassidy Allen Jones)

Every siren in San Jose started whining

What else could we think other than

            this is it

This is what we practiced pre-natal under our first

            grade desks to survive

We knew about the A-bomb and the N-bomb

            and the Russians

She got on top

This is how we'd thwart the attack & destruction

            and if it is truly Armageddon         

We wouldst die in the noblest position

 

Huge fog horns in the bay

Gigantic steel hull rising

Horses galloping in the orchards

Fruit fermented, birds slurring their trills

Worms like spaghetti in the meat ball

            composting soil

The moon glistening between

            two smooth Eucalypti

The fecund sperm smell of the redwoods

            of the Santa Cruz in spring

                        wafting through the window

                        that mirrors the morn's Baroque score

            emanating from springs

                        of the marriage mattress

Every ancestor reborn in our blood erupting

DNA candle flicker and pistons pound a rotation

            a rotary goes around comes around

Climax is Anti-Climax

The treasure is in the seeking

            the finding is just all right

There is nothing more pure or clean

Pop goes the weasel, groovin high

            the Bird gets the worm

Bop the fun

Pleasure the bodies unlimited

Heat & sweat unbridled laughter

Eyes illumined jewels

            adorning the carnival skin

We used to plant little flags when we did it outside

No walls, no roof, no clothes, no regrets, no rules

Who needs a motel room

            when we have the top of Mt. Tamalpais 

 

 

During the late ‘60s, Antler, Jeff Poniewaz and Andy Clausen were three of many young people inspired by Allen Ginsberg, whose deep voice of sanity and compassion came as a great relief amid the insanity and cruelty of the Vietnam War.  Antler and Jeff in Milwaukee and Andy in New York subsequently became three of the younger generation poets whose poems Allen liked and in whom Allen saw hope for the future of poetry and the world.  On a cross-country tour behind his new More Selected Poems, Andy is accompanied by his ladylove and fellow poet Pamela Twining.  The four will perform at Riverwest Public House starting at 7pm on Thursday July 11.  This event coincides with Power Down Week, so the poets’ performance will include poems that, in the spirit of Allen Ginsberg, confront the Climate crisis and other urgent issues.  To quote Ginsberg: "Andy Clausen’s bardic populism is grounded on long years' sturdy experience as a construction worker earning family bread by the sweat of his brow.  His comments on the enthusiastic Sixties and all the decades since present a genuine authority in America not voiced much in poetry magazines.  The expensive bullshit of TV suffers placed side by side with Clausen's direct information and raw insight."  This will be a rare chance to hear two dynamic Woodstock NY poets who have never been to Milwaukee perform together with their two Beat-nexus Riverwest friends.