SIX LOVE SONGS AND A POEM OF DESPAIR
I am an insane science fiction author, someone to whom the Hotel Gonzo was, for insurmountable eras, worlds and generations, a home away from home; a place which saw my residence following two suicide attempts, and the open country joy of mania, a joy whose fierceness tore me apart like love, like Sal Armoniack, the Sophic Sal of the alchemists.
And isn't this Sophie who was called barren the Mother of Angels? Is she not the inventor of the cosmos; it issued from her like an abortion.
This was my paranoia, the Church of the Mind, a new alchemy for the space age, trying to understand, to render concrete somehow, the mystical experience I'd had in the Invisible High, when madness first tore me apart, when God died, when the dream-painter's brushes, his immortal colors, were stolen from me, and the remaining blank canvas the Void of Experience.
Void of Forms.
Void of Colors.
Void of Shadows.
I finally broke into print with a couple pages of poems in Midnight Zoo, tales of insanity not unlike the abortion which now shames me, Sophie's abortion, a story beyond even God and Sisyphus, RU-486 IN THE COSMIC CIRCUS.
After ten years of trying and dying, crucifiction and crucifixation, savage dread on sheets of typewriter paper, the dread experience with the Invisible Typewriter flying me on trips throughout the brain, Even Timothy Leary has never known the magic of hypomania, even though he always knew exactly which way he was going to go.
The editor of MZ, John Herron, called me up long-distance just a few days before the issue was to go to press. He also printed a couple of short stories, including THE DAY HIS DOGGIE DIED, a sarcastic jab at the Invisible Hog: the world's most advanced attack motorcycle with the brains of the great science fiction author, Harley Davison on a microchip.
Here be monsters.
Here be words from beyond the realm of Superego, her rusted chains, her prison planet where freedom was to seek the rising sun. The one known as Apollo, who was resurrected in the Dyer. And he dips what he dips in water.
Wonder Woman, I'm not your kind
I'm a brave Imperial Aerosol King