Sunday, February 8, 2009

Cleaving Spicer

The Book of Gwenivere

“Spicer came to see the
triangle as a modern version
of the Camelot Legend:
reflecting his own feelings
of expulsion from lost
Berkeley Paradise”
—Lewis Ellingham and
Kevin Killian, Poet Be Like
God: Jack Spicer and the
San Francisco Renaissance,
Wesleyan Press, 1998


The country—isn’t well-defined
Whether poets—or real people
The seacoast—of Bohemia
San Francisco—Invisible World

Rexroth—Arthur, kingly king
Creeley—Lancelot the Knight
Marthe—grieving Gwenivere
The Quest—for her Holy Grail


Young Lance—and his big dick
North Beach—and Inland Sea
Next to the great—Pacific Ocean
“Blow me, anyway”—Creeley says

The city of fog—grail mistresses
Several magicians—dead seagulls
Harpies—and the wild choruses
Lady of the Lake—I am you


I’m Gwenivere—Rexroth’s wife
Even tho—we’re not married
I’m the third one—admitted to
Kenny’s Grail Castle—not worth it…

It’s Good Friday—the dumb old king
Awaits the whip—the vinegar
The fairy princess—and the toad
Love’s a hoax—Rexroth’s an asshole


Creeley shows up—depths and shadows
The sun comes out—for a whole day
Lance makes—the Gwenivere in me
Happy—his young bent cock…

Lance is neither—bone nor skin
The moon becomes—moonlight
And somehow I survive—the sinking
Of my own—personal Titanic


Sometimes I wonder—about the Grail
Inside my Groin—that I die for each
Coming back—like Christ from the Tomb
The angel saying—“He’s no longer here.”

In the bedroom—of the Grail Castle
There’s a spermy Lance—piercing my pussy
I was looking for love—Lance just smiled
Jaysus Christ—he fucks me silly…


“No need—for any boo-hoo!!!
Elope with me—down to Santa Fe
Live with me—there in Taos
D. H. Lawrence’s—dumpy ranch!!!”

So I left Rexroth—without goodbye
Adios San Francisco—Baghdad by the Bay
I left the Dwarf King—for Lance the Knight
Fucking me—all the way to Albuquerque


Rexroth wept—and shouted
The King ranted—the King raved
But it was over—the wife-beating
No more Arthur—abusing me

Christ doesn’t bleed—anymore
Ever so politely—like he used to
Drop by drop—into my teacup
Each day with Rexroth—ennui

New Mexico—rock, sand, sunshine
For once I was happy—I was a woman
Lance woke me up—inside my body
As he bent me—inside the morning…

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