Love of Life the 49th Parallell
bill bissett
LOVE OF LIFE, th 49th PARALLELL love of life, th 49th parallell
love of life, th 49th PARALLELL love of life, th 49th parallell
love of life, th 49th parallell love of life, th 49th parallell
love of life, th 49th parallell love of life, th 49th parallell
love of life, th 49th parallell LOVE OF LIFE, TH 49TH PARALLELL
“…in three days fish and guest spoil…”
dont yu see, in th seventies now
in th fifties they sent in their teachers, their poets, their pretty-eyed
intellectuals who were kind, of far out, helpful, and looking for th
academic freedom they cud find here,afraid from th dark bittr spell
mccarthy had cast ovr ther land. we handid them jobs, places,
freedoms, welcomd th guests, gave refuge
then came ther businesses also
ther monoplies, ther cars ther tv shows, now they have control so much of
our educational centres, th media, now there is no academic freedom
here now they have th place to control th minds of our children, ths
guests
now ther peopul arm themselves against us on th bordr between
our countries now if not for our strength and our independence of ther
fascist ways aftr th record industry nd rock show take ovr, rip off, aftr
ther draft dodgers, if not for our strength, our independence wud cum
ther tanks, ther ballistik missiles, ther show of hate, ther army
wrr not supposd to write just pretty verse describing only
th color
or th sheen of th line of th pig trough th bosses
them up there
or them below th border
try to bash our brains thru nor th spirit of th decoration,
whats happining is going on now, sumthing is going on
in th changes, not supposd to write just pretty verse, or how good it is,
how good yu feel sumtimes, how togethr yu are, how painlessly
yu move yr spiritual elegance thru this veil of shit, that aint for
poets
what is in th heart, and of th forces ther,in th shaping of th lines, th
bondaries, th effects, on our minds of th cable vision from othr thot zones,
what it duz to us and th land, th messages from wher competition only is th
game, and of th principles of feel, war is th messenger
now th americans movd already into cambodia, into canada, destroy th
land, th peopul, create a robot chain of command, necessitating evry move
to be interpretid thru th visible c i a channels thruout th world
wher the poets are,deep in th caves, hear th sighs th agonies of th
earth, th creatures who have to pretend they arint going to a job, involvd
in ther appeasing enslavement, th generals of this plastik against earth
creeps, ther continual only peace nd war games, this influence cumin
close to wher th divine signals of life enter th flow
its message of war, its glorification of carnage, what use of
such life saging frozen in th meat market, th smoking flesh despoild ovr
th field, th cold blue thighs rotting in th grass, th head smashd ketchup
ovr th rock, bodies gasping out in th streets, th arteries closd, only th
leadrs men of th peopul here who usd to be, now with th american colony whose wives
prepare food fr th invading arm, who embrace th invading poets, thr facist
philosophies, they gathr in ther 50,ooo dollar homes newly bot,been here coupul of
years only, claim this place as ther own, look down upon th citys hundreds of
thousands in low rent districts, ghettos, they ths new pigs create
do yr own thing eh its really sumthin how a peopul can be talkd into slicing its
own throat just to send more dollars to th chicago phone company, th electric
agreements,nbc,cbs,hearst newspapr chain, chain,its th uranium here,th petroleum
here,th cheap labor fr thr movies here,its ther fascism,its ther one world
american horse shit really that they try to make a very few among us stars to
get all th rest of us
fr nothin yu know wher yr text books wer printid,who wrote them,who tries to
shove em down yr throat,thr good intentions,thr terror,appetites make yu see the
demons in what good peopul around yu,try to,so yu see,so yu,so,nd th meaning
erases in yr freedom, watch it too as they tell ya its yr imagination yu saw
what they were really doing,in yr town,in cambodia,on yr tv,inyr mind,soul,
yr hydro company thats th watr here,what bettr be again free land here not th
short haird wind up plastic vicious disgusting robot ordrs from th pentagon,
moving into yr growing pastures, marking off th rime, filing yr interests, yr
numbr and yr loyalty to th culture in mechainical manoeuvers, sickness of nerve
gas, ths generals gonna try to make yu pay fr evry second, evry infinity as powr
sadism is how they gonna try to make yu see it, ths americans with german space
programs, nazi scientists, th poets hear ths temptation, th siren call of th
excellence of ego, th ordrs, th occupation, th grabbing, th slaughter, th
spread of th military dictatorship even in th feeling arts of th one
spirit, with th body, th creatures in th marsh, th wingd ones, th magic
communications, th elements, how we appear, whether live living or dead from
th american vibrations of a new auswitch, they have camps ready now in alaska,
in th midwest, nuclear stations undr th desert,how we are now, they have em
erasing th native culture th feeling whithin th land replacing ther attempt
this with plastik generalities of how th genesis moves, what gods we shud fall for,
a spread ovr art that is thot to be true anywhere, like nuklear war heads,
thr militant unwitting elite helping to tie th knot, to make th drano
complete, like coca cola plastic ads in front of a siameses tempul, it is
also different, is not th same ordr everywhere we stand for, nor move into th
fountain th hearing of american machine gun fire preseedid by ther movie stars,
th writrs, thr salesmen, who bring first th rational, what they think we bettr get
ready for, thr teachrs, what ther banks have done, even ther sophisticated soft sell
for th psyche white bread in th glands followrs of th military zone, watch out
for th invadrs who take ovr yr wires yr media yr schools who announce whats next
as th black top is rolld out all ovr yr earth all th way to th concentration
camp th robot ville of th mind, th drive-in, th newstand, even tellin yu its good
for yu poets too sure
know thr th steam rollr on yr face
(written end of april/70,2 days befor th united states invaded
cambodia declaring war against th world)
bissett, bill. “LOVE OF LIFE, th 49th PARALLEL.” Nobody Owns th Earth. Toronto: Anansi, 1971. 65–69.