Smoke Signals Literary Magazine Online
Richard Golden
Young & Schmuck
Rudy Wurlitzer

REBIRTH BLUES
d. a. levy

You know, whenever I think about becoming
an angel / a bodhisattva / a rain deer
locking antlers with the clouds
I MARUT
chariot rolling on blue sky
knocking down war monuments
with thunder bolts & a good screw
a meal of tantric mulligan stew
spooning the last drops of the pot
with grass fumes until the Astral POP
(can we hold hands out here?can we
touch the mind electricity of our
aethereal love forms?)
Whenever I think
of becoming, say, a poet
a master of wild words before they die
I ask, should I water them and suffer
VERB SPASMS of the action writer
& if i wrote what i wanted to write
it would be as empty as becoming
what I want to become?
listen you fuck-offs
MOVE OUT into the Universe Juice
YOU'RE FLUNKING YOUR OWN DEATHS, SHMUCKS!
Whenever I think about becoming
anything i get scared
& start thinking
it must be a wonderful thing
to be like everybody else
so terrified of death they
can not even remember it,
so frightened of the responsibility
of becoming ANY THING they struggle to do
nothing & Oh hell,
i didn't really want to be an angel anyway
no one would understand & the
pay is lousy
it's one of those non-union jobs
keeps you on the floor
weeping
for me to stop murdering me
with the survival illusion
whenever i think about becoming
ANY THING


Online Volume 1
Charles Bukowski,
Terry Southern,
Jim Harrison

The Buddhist Third Class Junkmail Oracle the Art and Poetry of d.a. levy
by Mike Golden


Seven Stories

photo: CPD d.a. levy
POETRY COMIX
by Luther Dickinson
NORTH MISSISSIPPI ALLSTARS

The North Mississippi Allstars were founded in 1996; a product of a special time for modern Mississippi country blues. RL Burnside, Jr. Kimbrough, Otha Turner and their musical families were at their peak; touring the world, making classic records and doing the all-night boogie at Jr's Juke Joint and Otha's BBQ Goat picnics -- the music and the culture rich as the black Mississippi dirt. Brothers Luther and Cody Dickinson soaked up the music of their father, Jim Dickinson, and absorbed the North Mississippi Blues legacy while playing and shaking it down at the juke joints with their blues ancestors. Luther (guitar and vocals) and Cody (drums and vocals) joined up with bassist Chris Chew to form the core of their own band, The North Mississippi Allstars. Through the filter of generations of Mississippi Blues men, the Allstars pioneered their own blues-infused rock and roll and continue to do so.

WISH YOU WERE HERE
by mike golden

Hell.
Not Bad.
Beer's cold.
Something
you can't say for Heaven.

No point here.
No illusions.
But plenty of laughs.
Not funny ha ha -- schmuck slipped
on a banana peel -- laughs --
NOOOOOOOO
more like the iridescence of truth:
We're all gonna do our time,
all gonna die,
maybe come back
like good Bodhissatvas
to fuck up again.

Or
maybe
not?

I miss that better class of pussy
that first inspired me
to walk this walk
talk this talk
and do this do,
I really do.

And I'm not suppose to eat
chocolate
cavier
bar-b-que
opiated truffles
floating in butter from a duck
unless I discover an anecdote for cholesterol
mud wrestling King Kong.
And they say, they say
there's no future in the future
so you can't bet on the come
anymore; all time
for all time
is in the moment, they say -- call it
Zen Neutral.

Take that to the table
and bet the locks
without the cream cheese;
there's just no winning
though I concede
losing's always been
a state of mind; here
the choices don't even exist
even if the odds do.

BET ME I've been in worse places,
and probably will be again.
even if I never leave this spot.
As Futilitarian as it all seems
some days. . .the mind
moves through emptiness everywhere
while the eyes dance
with the sweet breeze
of hereafter; while other days
there are only memories
I try my best to forget
before the addiction of matter
over mind
kicks in
and I'm hooked again
on all those sweet-sweet badass lies
we told to each other: i love you,
i need you, i want you, i hate you,
i can't live without you. . .
whoever the fuck you are. . .
or think you are, today.

When all is said and done
I wish you were here
but don't think
that'll ever happen again.
And I wouldn't go back
and do it over
even if I could.
Though every once in-a-while
I'd like to visit.

I'll always remember
you had a great ass,
and an even greater smile,
though most of the time
it was hard to tell
which was which.

© 2/14/99
Collage by AKA