Rarefield Corpses Collage Series 1

Moby Dick faced                                                   

by the totalitarian Ahab,                                     

democratic Ishmael, the crew                            

on the Pequod to their doom,                         

Ahab facing his Self                                         

sacrificing the world, the Pequod,                     

dispensable, the price                 

Obsession an “independent being        

of its own,” “glared out of bodily eyes . . . 

a formless somnambulistic being, 

a ray of living light . . .without an object to colour,”  

capitalism living, breathing in the Pequod, 

captain and crew,       

the relations for the world wars, the genocides, the weapons of mass destruction, 

crew and captain,               

technocrats, corporations and political leaders upon 

the crew whose hearts pilot the ship,   

mariners of the earth "seeking             

to avoid pain, misery, struggling for happiness”                                             

Sits the Captain above,                       

the name indistinct                                

on the line of time, on the space lands,   

eons of knowledge and hearts            

for his greedy pain, blindly 

squandering them all                         

into the abyss

---ships ahoy! ...Hitler? Stalin?...---

Ginsberg, in the hold of the Pequod 

kept on howling "...What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination? Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks! Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men! Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments! Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb! Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the cities! Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!..."

as a new eon
turns round