80s Sologram

Strange I lose my gear
I think as I wake up
in the fifteen minutes afterward.
Off shelf reached through
crazy desperation hung
the Hanged Man of the Holy Tarot;
L’Hueso de Espalda del Hombre Colgado.

Monster the feed you must,
synthetic puppet Master Yoda
creation hands having breakfast,
lunch & dinner. At Universal
Studios Florida on location for
the shooting of Star Wars sequel
The Empire Strikes Back…

Thank you Frank N Furter for trephanning
me, undoing my circumcision.
It’s a gas – Here! Here! – that
Frankie’s landed. His lust is so sincere.
The toasters – Ai here here! – tip cups.
Resolve
to do due homage to sir savior perennially.

Chopin Sonata, last to middle movement,
1953 recorded by William Kapell;
prior to the pianist being taken down, hands
and all in a deadly commercial airliner crash.
‘Them aircraft’re dangey russ,’
resignedly comments a yokel, who is
standing by, an extra to the scene.

‘Yappi!’ he spits tobacco, or
“To Ba Key,” as he’d himself call it
were he discussing how wacky
smoking were for his head.
Splint arrived.
He gate-crashed.
We all exalted rejoiced.

‘Yip. Yip…’
You’re Ray!
‘Yip. Yip…’
Shue Mai.
Pork or seafood wanton?
How bout brown rice noodle?
How done? Soba or udon?

Flour, como tortilla, frita; Frida Kahlo:
Don Diego, Seigneur, immoral Lord,
portrait Mexico in mural since the settling
of the Spanish, when progress first began
with their cannons, grenades, bayonets,
their muskets and the mustard gas
that the enemy set off canisters of.

The eminence of the downcast
comely home swirls. Mood is rainy day.
whether or not the sky is clear
or the sun is shining. The omphalos is
a square pocket of midday shadow;
corners its final frontiers; distance
streets are from one another.

This where I live,
that where I went
looking for sex somehow or other
Approximate feet to the foreground
Slenderman in Velasquez’s Meninas,
Handmaidens. Headwinds
front off the cliff’s face.

Seagulls swirl
comely home.
Acid white
shit squirts
pelts the gray rock
below. Stains paint.

Strange I lost my gear
at seven in the morning,
the day after Halloween.
I, Elliott, no surname, Thomas, Henry,
was pale clown face painted.
You ET, a candy colored clown who
silhouetted my bicycle on the full moon.

Psychopomp XV

“Your star made you into a zombie,” Psychopomp in an educator’s pedantic ‘I’m afraid that’ tone. “Let us see that again,” the Doc Cinema lecturer, “in instant replay.”
The former life of the abzud ka flashes in front of its mind’s eye, the ajnu, through which it when in the body incarnate through pupils of irises two eyes saw.
The play in College American Football: The Quarterback shouts “Hike!” and burly barbarians slam against each other. Wall upon wall. He passes it to the Punter, who kicks it into the End Zone.
The whistle blows. Out of bounds. Kick no good. White and Red must trade possession.
“That was it,” the High School Sports Star mourns his own pitiful professional career, pissed in a dive bar thirty years down the line. “My fifteen minutes of fame gone in under four seconds.
“I knew something was wrong. It didn’t have to hit the ground even. I was sure. I knew already before it hit its apex. Matter fact, come to thinka it… Twas from the moment the QB called ‘Hike!’ I wanted to go; ‘No wait don’t it to me.”

“My star made me into a zombie,” the real-life inspiration for movie character Psychopomp discloses exclusively in the Entertainment True Hollywood Documentary: The Psychopomp in Cinema.
A good one was George Carlin as Rufus in Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure and the sequel, Bogus Journey, in which a more traditional version of the Psychopomp is played by William Sadler as Grim Reaper, who further plays a double too, a shadow of a shadow.
Bill and Ted are two dumb kas. A couple classic California dudes who become world saviors in the probably future post American Empire Apocalypse.
The art piece by Joseph Conrad, reincarnated as a Cinema admirer of Francis Ford Coppola’s Vietnam War film Apocalypse Now, 1979; particularly for Marlon Brando’s role as Colonel Kurtz in it and TS Eliot’s class line, “Mr. Kurtz, he dead.”

Bill and Ted belay their kas. “Whoa! That we’re embardoed here by Psychopomp is most unfortunate dude.”
“Unfortunate? Is that best you can describe it Bill?” Sydney Pollack to Tom Cruise’s character in Stanley Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut. The hapless Bill Harford cannot accept his ka is in the duat.
S: “Do you have any idea who those people were in those masks there at the Cult Ritual Orgy?”
T: “N-no I don’t. Now can I go home? I have a wife and daughter, which I would like to,” he searches for the proper verb, “protect as much as possible.”
“Not till you’ve faced reality Bill. This is what this bardo’s all about. Look those people are the faceless Slendermen who control society.”
Flashback to the shot in the film: The long beaked white dark eyed bird of prey mask turning to Bill, ‘Fidelio,’ from up in the balcony. The Beethoven Opera is key to understanding the context of the societal commentary.
Art is metaphor. The actor’s is rich in intimated meaning. The set director’s blatantly pagan symbolic candle star angled pentagrams etched in the foundational clay of city skyscrapers.
S: “You weren’t in Kansas anymore once you crossed over that 59th St. Bridge in a yellow taxicab. Sheesh man, that was how they knew you! We all arrived in black limousines and carried weapons that had to be checked at the gate. You when they patted you clean, we knew you were an outsider.
“Then the mystery was just left as to who. And it didn’t take long before the doorman found the receipt for the costume you rented made out to you know who, Doctor William Clifford Harford. Speaking which, I’ve been wondering. Why would your parents name you with the name ‘Ford’ twice?”
T: “The writers of this Cinema wanted to make it crystal clear that I was to be of the Harrison Ford, Indiana Jones American Hero archetype,” Cruise to his Scientology assessor explains as honestly as the schlocky, Rocky actor possibly can.
Lest we forget his cameo in Rocky Horror Picture Show. Risky Business, 1983.

He slides in his socks in his underwear across the polished wooden floor in the entry hall to his upper-class suburban parents’ mansion, which he in the film is with the help of his real-life girlfriend, the ambitious, beautiful twenty-something whore, Rebecca De Mornay going to turn into a brothel one highly profitable night in bardo hell.
Heaven the Pleasure Dome. The entire High School of boys of the class of 1983 lose their virginities in the Casa del Cruise to Steely Dan singing after the keyboardist has tinkled in scales all the way down, “Just take those old records off the shelf. I’ll sit and listen to ‘em by myself. Today’s music ain’t got the same soul as that old time rock n roll. Still like that old time…
“That kinda music just soothes the soul.” P: “Shhh!” Psychopomp Sweet Transvestite soothes the ka on the operating table, brushing like a perverse mother acting as wet nurse the curl on his sweaty forehead into his messy, feverish hair back.
“Again!” The piano commences arpeggios. “Encore!” WHOOSH – Cherub: “You are abzud…”
A bardo recommences with the strike to the rod in the satellite-lit sky the lightning bolt. CHASH – The sphere revolves; is set in motion. Electricity through Rocky’s trephan hole via red and white wires is blasted. The guitar riff to Old Time Rock N Roll tingles the spine followed by the Donner Klavier dash.
As Tom Cruise lip-synchs the lyrics by Steely Dan on June 28 1904 Stephen Hero is dancing in his underwear to music by the Rolling Stones: “I know it’s only Rock N Roll but I like it.” Mick Jagger lascivious lips: “I like it,” whispers. “I lie kit. I said I lie kit I like it. Yes I do.”
James Joyce has Telemachus in his Odyssey see through the duat in Act XV: Circe; perceive abzus down Dublin red light district alleyways.
Ulysses happens upon Cherub sitting in the lotus posture atop a letter box on the Ithaca of the East Coast of the island where the author’s blood sources the Atet boat in the duat.
She is costumed as Psychopomp, the sex witch Circe. A Sweet Transvestite in leather drag except she is definitely female. See in her crotch her cameltoe above thigh-high shiny boots. Venus in Furs – Whaphash! – boy, child (ka) in the dark.
Turn on the fuzz of streetlight fancies. Chase the costumes she shall wear. Ermine furs adorn Imperious. Severin Severin awaits U there.
K: “What sorta severing of what is that?” a bemused ka to Psychopomp, pompously amused at his ignorance.
C: “A trephanning of your crop,” Cherub, invisible Cult recruiter whispers you your death sentence in a noisy crowd. U pretend U cannot Here.
‘Severin’ is Lou Reed’s word for one of the Cult who has had the Trephanning.
Severin, Severin, speaks so slightly. Severin down on your bended knee. Taste the whip in love not given lightly. Kiss the boot of shiny shiny leather. Shine of blood – CHASH – in the dark. Taste the boot. Kiss the whip. Now bleed for… Severin your servant comes adorned in bells please don’t forsake him.