David Meltzer



it was a mistake
spirit not stuff
was the directive

middle management archon
screwed it up botched creation

I am called thinking of the invisible
I am called unchangeable voice
aeons of aeons
I ams of I ams

meat’s the error
meet the terror
of failure of gravity
the weight of

irritate the pearl of spirit’s abandonment
hear me softly
& learn from me harshly

this time’s the dream’s on me

take light but leave dark
to guide the maze twist
of unanswered questions

the journey down
ascent to the royal realm

it is not I
the sound
of my thinking

am called
invisible thought
as we move
& separate
down industrial streets

hidden in all
revealed in all
each reaching out
to an other
stranger in despair

displaced people
tagged as alien

all one
no other
of you
for you

beyond usual bounds
or boundaries

we came to believe
by means of signs & wonders
& fabrications
& emanation of trace

Check out the tape & tell me what you think.

‘The alien is that which stems from elsewhere
& does not belong to here’

strange unfamiliar incomprehensible

lonely unprotected

‘in the name of the great first alien Life
from the worlds of light’

the stranger who does not know the ways of the foreign land wanders about lost
lonely, unprotected, uncomprehended

not known nor seen as knowable
the stranger’s lot

estranged from one’s own origin
real estate

‘alienness as superiority & suffering’
remoteness the fate of involvement

‘The alien is that which stems from elsewhere and does not belong here. To those who do belong here it is thus the strange, the unfamiliar and incomprehensible; but their world in its part is just as incomprehensible to the alien that comes to dwell here, and like a foreign land where it is far from home.’

liminal like the newborn teenager
complex presence of you & those
who imagine themselves into a fictive life of us

played hooky from school
we woke up at 1:40 afternoon
sleeping through
the unlived life

the alien is that which stems from elsewhere
& doesn’t belong here

if it learns
it forgets

lost from core
origin’s tangles

the alien stems from elsewhere & does not belong here

to those who belong here it is strange & unfamiliar incomprehensible

but their world
just as alien

the stranger is lonely & suffers uprootedness
in a situation
full of danger

the stranger’s lot

learn the ways too well
& forget one is a stranger
gets lost in a new way

succumb to the alien world’s allure
is to be further estranged
from origin

she takes shazanda
I do melatonin
to sleep & dream
lost on awakening

her dreams are of houses
mine of cities

‘I feel as if I were drugged’

collective we of multiples
came to this place
to melt into that pot
‘I cried & worried all night I lays & groans
I used to weigh 200
now I’m down to skin & bones’

the soul slumbers in matter
silent in Lucite

would that
a great voice
come daily to
awaken me
break the spell
halt the shuffle trance

‘what liberates us is the knowledge of who we were, what we became; where we were, where into we’ve been thrown; where to we speed, wherefore we are redeemed; what birth is & rebirth’

grain’s dark
even staring into light

brought here
not wanting to be here
pushed onto lines
that rarely move or end
whatever I tell an official
is another language

beyond the paper & rubber stamps
nibbed ink scratch
on government parchment
blue lines
blotted in a hurry
blur surname
where were we
now that we’re here?

they come from the sky
cross oceans
wherever they land
they do not belong

inside or outside
prison contains
unwingable flight
the locked door
is freedom for those
w/out it
but those w/in it
cry diamonds into
burnt-out leather smuggler pouches

nature did not destine us
for a base ignoble existence

if someone could look at the world from on high
& behold the wealth of beauty in it
he would know
what we were born for

walls & veils diversions
labyrinths & mazes
the path as challenge unfolds in faith

‘the unconscious is a veritable infection
by the poison of darkness
‘they mixed my drink w/ cunning
& gave me a taste of meat
I forgot I was a king’s son

through the heaviness of their nourishment
I sink into a deep slumber’

it’s the slime
that keeps division divided

it’s a sci-fi cliché
it’s fucking X Files
lightless creep holes where
dim flashlights skid off
weird alien slick slather

snot rugs pulled out
prosthetic clots
slip over into new
bone smash
go figure
the broken & perfect

alive or dead in sepia snaps retrieved out of
spored boxes of darkness

was in the was
& is in that same was-ness
where one is nowhere stuck in all of it

ground zero
where alphabet recircles itself
back to Aleph & its razors of imprint
whose wounds
slash veils while
spider like spit out
new webs to weave outcry
inactive & consumed

the condensed truth
Pet Milk infinitude
cow into cow into cow
into can into can into
iconic exaltation

sugar gear shift
lifts downfallen
into sweet sweat
relief belief
spasm’s ‘I AM’
& forget or remember
iambic pent-up

re-member torn away
wings & thing
that danced
on illumined stages

the stuff which unpuffs & blurts out intestines & the usual FX

the stuff which means nothing
but everything
the stuff which decays & is poetry
the goo the snot the rot

alive as we die
no myth but being
no being but myth
no no
die to be
to birth
to burst

Aya’s sure she’s an ET
as well as a Pharonic Egyptian goddess & multigenerational physician
of all kinds of medicine

all I remember is drowning
& breaking through

alias moniker
masked vapor
‘belonging to
another person
another place’ something else
not knowable
a distraction from what is
a challenge
a threat
the obvious

life heat of all internal organs grinds down to soot

bone cold hexagram telegrams
dot dot common amnesia
aphasia dementia
can’t remember
can’t forget
what is it

cape me
big brim hat me
mask me
ask me the meaning of life
& if I say strife
tire-shoe me
retire me
as long as you know
nothing rules
only unknowing
opens up the books
rescrambles the letters
chains them back to fetters
stutter to blank melody
dots chained to staffs
horizontal lines

each amazed wing feather
spread & fanned &
plucked for pens
whose bone nibs dip
deep into inkwells

Up against the wall
Caligari style
to slide away
duck spotlights
angry driven dogs
dissolve in dark cover

set apart from
what beholds
& holds all
in the vision
of blank
sight of
vapor inneffable
w/ affable spew
of metaphor’s faith
in lingo to link
all together in one
pure mirrored wall

The opinions of people concerning prophecy are like their opinions concerning the eternity of the world or its creation in time

yes yes
why wait when
time breaks down
fails to exist
in axes of remove
chop chop
your hand reaching out for
the promised land