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Clark Coolidge
Uncollected and Unpublished Poems
1964-1965

 
 

            THE UNITED STATES FLAG

                              a var. on PW's ghost

"I wanta hold your hand"
I want to pull two tape strips off new window pane
I want to peel the brains off a snail
I want to filch lightbulbs and turn, in turn
I want to grab on vellocipedes full steak sandwich
I want a total toad & glempsh
I want fool food & ice windows
I want the winter skate to go off
I want keys
I want orange valuables
I want a planet of pill
I want nobody nowhere nothing
I want silly & serious pencils & type
I want a gloatable globe
I want troublefreesome fins & tail
I want U.S. Mail
I want a tub, tube, tuba, & lukewarm tea
I want bendable fenders in calendars
I want the star at the very tip
I want friendful windows providence
I want imaginary life-box with eye-hole
I want different piece each ones' lunch
I want fur turtle on green dresser overlooking bed
I want turter
I want tah-baby famous U.S.
I want poltergeist congress-free
I want the gin of roller albums
I want mirror with rheostat
I want the cat black in my wall purple
I want pimple
I want people
I want bluesky underhair contest
I want a line on cornball cosmos
"I want to live!" she choked out anyhow
I want wife & life - no gripes - no knives
I want movie plastacine
I wanta get blasted!
I want novel nose-wipe
I want crabs in pipes make music
I want goose it!
I want a, b, c, slots & tabs
I want the news crapper
I want bug snapper
I vant peggd drums
I want yards dangerous hair
I want learn perfecto all-purpose con
I want a green lawn
I want to roll
I want all the poles here
I want nobody's tones / thrones

       throw me in with all I want, am, & groove!
       throw, I approve!

                                          25:II:64

 

 

 

 

                 EVERLEY FORMATION         (a sonnet)

O! how pea-brain flattery you are
(sea sludge siege won by arts)
nothing - a tin moth turret - fuzzing
tunnels - tubas with headlights
lamps - are multiform colored - sewage
at your age I swallowed to laugh right

too bad you lost past time in a wind match
that was a good catch please
ANTS - tied a cultural balloon
the knots in my ball eyes hard to tie

sponge & freeze me in a chemical whorehouse
this is the danger plated door keeps opening
I widened my duodenum by pressing
I galloped into time vial, step, ladder, & beaker
                                 circuit-breaker
I need wet sleep
      (sandwich: steep & red
                 read me!

see you!   (clout)   I found you!

                                                            26:III:64

 

 

 

 

It Fluoresced white day, I felt depressed & poems

I feel I'm
     going to   scream & threw up!
               I got out of the bath tub...        (cut)

cat of black disappearance eyes winked & colored furniture appear
eyes, & beeswax, & tears in the knit-stockings
patented - all patented & greased & cat, the windows
& pain ("in"  or  "feeling no")    or paint   (redness)

Beeps. buzzer went off in the Red Flower Terror Pot
      melancholia & melon drips  drops moltens
         no tears!
Awake I learned: mucilage  mergansers  mercury
                (green stamp) mudhuts of interest

Black Fabians.  House Orifice.  Pimple BloodSheet.

     Scared Rice.  Blonde Scarcities.  Edgar's Eclair Sanctity.

If you own Sound-Bodice, I shall hunt your closets.
          with a pencil & (held close) sneer at its eraser

             Body C's          Class Belts $24.95

             Pedals   (still alive!)    Permits.

This poem is "about" nothing "means" everything
                              (or an assortment tray)

          but admit it's silly colored
                 won't alarm-buzz or "head"
              & can not be hung on your wall.

                                        -- 25:VII:64

 

 

 

 

eye bona

I've
got a cat & a
head    in bed

try my
head for a
bonas bolas, try
my head for
a bonas bolas
hive

I try living in a
hive

I
try the bolas
for eyes, in bed
hive is
head, hive is.

bed is lie.
life of bed at
night is out
of hive of eyes

eyes have
hands out of hive
hands
of hive life

bod.
bod in bed
    life
high   thru bolas bonas
of eyes
   hive: bona fide

eye hive life in the high
bed
     hands bolas
bona fide

a bonas.
a bone.

          -- 5:XI:64

 

 

 

 

Lovecraft sonnets

          1.

hand imagination have the insane
running feebly tumbled white information
engulf singular heads seldom transferred
the streets but personality resentment

exchange growths were fashion collapse
will welcomed grandmother flattened the
abnormality forms had bobbing the
owing for either but dun't

to some tippler advisable head
races from one and architectural
fixed kind Hammond's contact thought

humped false morning that changed
get dissatisfaction timidity that doubts
continuous of Akeley with up

 

          2.

the Greenfield into eventually of
as Pleasant discouraging human inquiry
organs first with elsewhere man
suppose with visible myths waters

fiendish learned something bedroom mostly
quiet mountain about side terror
dreaded bed much offensive a-postin'
early snipped cries could where

grinned through midnight her key
are comet's slid proceedings perusal
complete course eons know what

bobbing in heard interview cast
the he nature unutterable watchers
an very vain horrible city

                         -- 20:XII:64

 

 

 

 

     Noon Shed

this day is grin machine shed
powder red rust over every
thing girl & tree
                (slow moons

ocher snuff & ideas

I breathe past beauty
kicks?
        (on an armor slat sky

& the mine-disaster printed
on a dark tin wafer

                    -- 6:I:65

 

 

 

 

     Noon Print

morning in lunch
  time bread or
       tobacco birds

watching the ceiling for changes
                     in white
                 ( or whirl-beasties )

I'm
    never over
                come by prophecy

I stomp down (any
turns) street town

                    -- 19:I:65

 

 

 

 

THE REPEAT PAPER (or carbon glans)

opening the book
paper attic eye
glasses break & break

glow worm bodice in a tree
lights late lakes

& I find lights in the map
in twigs, in mist, in wire rain

     * * *

how can say "hopeless"?
two tan noses to every... rose
scarlet scar bottled in brine

I & 3
mouses furred to get out of the way
the rolling dome elevator in snap tree

     * * *

tissue star plots in St. Garth France?
"I was framed!" bullets crome ability
to laze billet & green awning for it?

that was noble
that was orange
that & the other
wimpled dark child that
rod red couldn't

that was funny & flesh & stupid
that stored tin wisdom
to rolld foil & avalanche us

that was image & liquid & grand lost

     * * *

in, He was tub in embarassment
    but I opened the book
    free & bluely & torn glass dormer
    this would world the night to laugh be
    curious ceiled room
    to steam Apollinaire

-- 23:II:65

 

 

 

 

PINKS

red
night
the bees are working in
the black room

* * *

the sneeze didn't come
before I wanted to finish writing
the words came

* * *

it doesn't
echo the cigarette
smokes

* * *

the ceiling isn't happy
smoke gets smaller & smaller til finally you can't
                                      (gets swallow
see it

* * *

shrill hand of talk
buttons
the cobra's eyes

-- 1:III:65

 

 

 

 

THE PAST WRESTLER     (cuts out of
                              Beatitude Anthology

Apollinaire In a chair...
& then one breast...
there's nothing to say

the poets union
as for me...hmmmmm...
from her lips
out of corners
nuts, skin bolts, clanking in his stomach
turn off TV

if nothing else
there
as I am high
to see what happens household mustard is
few wash
with my eyes

there are ways
there have been too many years
try to forget last
night. broke it up

glancing at me happily
the Baltimore sun said
I am like a mask of jelly in your arms
was once a man who shouted across tables
we can't know
eel grass, tough shells
the sky empty

send this poet to Mexico
his society's gone to pieces in his belly
pillow has turned to stone
as the cock flies

Edgar Allen Poe,
don't worry about growing old
just a minute I'll get a new set of pajamers

-- 7:III:65

 

 

 

 

THE ODE AS BLENDER

the clock has fallen/come in
to the wrong winter summer appears

but I say   but hello
but spin a nickel on sheer
nerve wood floor & promptly
fall    over down on the polish

0, so, the sky is caul-blue
& we have no tobacco
on our knees
             (with knees bare

tuesday will
wait, also
thursday   & friday
rear itself again a young'un

But I said also
but "too late!"

the car is an escapade
we didn't
reach rolling the window down
a dark corridor to attics
& childish cache of amber
                   ( a "LOVES YOU" etched cinder)

I roll over (what I mean
really  turning the page
expect find roses a balm
of feeling  "real rage"   "pure"   &  "for once"

   [When the pipes
   Stop leaking
   I'll give you a sandwich]

& there's no beer Danish
or otherwise I'll fight
   those guys "over a girl" late
   ("stinky dull letters!") & later

scream for      far
from my watch in the windowsill
try to hear the sun move & listen
(since you're calm & sweating at work &
streets away)  (on the beach cold water)
to the terrible hot slat "next-door"

   the children trying out
their tribe & amazing various screeches

-- 3:V:65

 

 

 

 

 

                 NOTABLE & MOBILE VIRTUES

                     1.

the poem is set in 13 pages long in 11 sections
                                    (scotch tape veterans)

    it reminds me of my own
    dry head hung over the sink

& it seems to be like him & was written by Frank O'Hara
                                   "even"
the bar flies
               shrieked thru the shred
                       shed rolling
               their won -- where?
          is that mysterious colume of beer?
          I hear of it
                      is supposed to support the
             white (lay) house & the president's stink beard

I had (said) lunch (was) boring plates... seepage of friend squid??!!

Put down that brittle radiator
                              lump or I'll call you: GENERAL!

          (Grand-Dad, Beat off!)
How's your Ma! How's (you're here?) how's your arm

Grand-Old Violet Concert Hall school for, finally gave up on
                                  my heart on my sleeve
       my conducting-activity of the "Certified
                                      Rest Room"  was bad
       they loud-spoke in public      despite all
                        my attention to blank rooms of
                        total anxiety & breakfast activity

I found sex alone in a room full of clean white photographic paper

  Greasy Pumpers were calld & came.   "New Metal Moon" ?

  Have you seen the Arensbergs lately, well I'm at the Motel

  most all the time spent in sundays & summer & surf

  Wait'll next campaign & the Seasonal Ball-Fiends come

           in

         please

       Yes barcarolle & summit & mold touch leaves, it pleases me

 

                     2.

Put out that candle, it lights out my shadow.

         "thank you"   (thank you)    THANK YOU!!

I playd pranks on my brother
                            (in law) but stank differently
                                        (& stood & thought)
It was cool so I opened (straight)
               up the window      light was a cell

& the nurses visited my
                       & playd with my chemistry
                                       set things & sat

clapping & "tomfoolery" gentian mist & pert lapping fronds

a broken bottle (crash!) my eyes to the window

   "It was black, so black, & I seemd to move

                                 (light was a wall)

                   differently" was all he said backing away

 

                     3.

the mist collapsed & I sighted some body's Grammaw was (I said it) all

in the purple one, the book kept next
                                      to the fish glass he said it all

       forever & forever & next monday
   the tables'll be turnd
                     then, you filth - forgetting your mouth & your
                                                       mother
    She reminded me so skillfully  ( a motor)
           of my rubbers but I kicked & fell in the slush
        could stay then home all snowball-day after throwing up

     now the school is "historic-scenic" & a deserted car-barn
                                          (distorted foolscap)

Do you own "Donald Duck 1939" ?  I wish could
                         remember my mumbledy-peg routine
                          & last turn & clear & pedal

                         "accomplished"  "decent"  gestures

 

                       4.

Dave leakd the tank without paying for the gas.

the stock market report described a new distribution

coming up     the horizon     a flight of mysterious discs

("I was over wrestling")       glint-eye & expressionless

 

                        5.

I searchd purchase Flemish brand Toothpaste, or socket-covered bees.

 

                        6.

Put down that scanner & come over here
   (burr of sonar)   we're all in it!    (got it in)    (for)
    a movie of SubJackers  pre -45    tall & hoorah
    sub-U.S.  underwater patriotiam & dry underware &
                                   multi sweaty flags

    our balls are all rolld & "belayed" & stowed
              we'll break 'em out later     ("a Fling at Pearl")

    Lookout!  here comes cosmic-dread in the trousers of George
                                                       Sanders
                                  (later to be Kurt Jurgens)

            it's bubbles! It's ping-juke & no sleep! it's trouble!

       it's crush, bunk, sunky down here where's
                         my LAVA bar   & Lana-Roll ?

My conductor's stripes, the sly evening launch
                                   & the last Jap dance band

 

                        7.

Dickie launched the rubber, constructed as a "homer" , we couldn't
                                          believe our eyes!
          "In a rut!", I shouted, ''Watch more TV!"

   We hooted & wept & watched Dick Tracy
                                         honing his jaw

the "penny-candy section" of his doctoral dissertation I enjoyed

the russians' loop in space & our latest lead block, I leand back

her skin peeld & she smartened

            up a lot of skin gone over since last

         year of the skin-pops, teeth mags, & illegal length knives

the streets carved out of granite without me knowing it

How does that strike you? Green Greek Cards, pen ends.

                                 How do you feel about...

Hand me that roller. Are you a doctor?

                                 I wanta enjoy all this

                                   ................... 19:VI:65

 

 


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