The Muse's Advisory typed & spellchecked by Tom Riordan


Mojo Infusion - Muse's Advisory, Sept. 4 – Yusuf to Nikos



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Mojo Infusion - Muse's Advisory, Sept. 4 – Yusuf to Nikos:

I have desires I could fan 


to roaring passions, like you do.

I read your epic and your memoir, both.


When Booklist  noted you were signing books 
here in New York, I had to come.

I'm going to ask you if you'll write:


To Yusuf, my life force is your inheritance.

How loud it is in here! Who guessed


the St. Mark's was a magnet for you Greeks?

Am I the only one on line 


who doesn't speak your mother tongue, 
and doesn't trumpet every thought out loud?
My Aramaic legacy is reticence.

You're smart; you didn't procreate.


Your wife still hangs upon your words
as lovingly as if it was your second date.

A child's a Trojan horse. I  know. 


He slips a hand beneath your balls 
and squeezes steadily until you cry,
I'll give my life! Just stop the pain!

And then he turns and walks away.

You faced down God and men 
with entrails cold and hard as metal chains.

When these two hussies finish offering you their cunts,


I want to grip your virile wrist
and pray its lava seeps into my veins.

I simply want what's mine. I  raised that boy,


I  kept that women warm in bed at night 
for twenty years, while Zeus just sat it out.

If it were you,  you'd leap right up and do 


something regretable, I have no d
oubt.

one of three nights at the cooper square - muse's advisory, sept. 5 – nikos, asleep:

a boy breathes lightly as a pine lizard


a cloudless sky above three continents 
a pelican crawls under the sea-grapes to die

a pelican on an updraft sees how everything 


   floats on everything
a tsar collects his tax on nobles' beards
a child's go-cart lames the mayor's mare

a soldier learns why privies have to be inside


a pelican perforates the membrane of the sea 
   and gulps a struggling mullet
a jetliner plummets from the blue over sumatra

grandfather said it plainly


        oxen, sheep and donkeys are men
        who lost the faculty of speech
        and olive trees and vines are men
        who don't remember anything at all
        except to set the richest fruit they can

at the first moment of creation 


everything was human
even we humans were human

[Parts of S5 drawn from Nikos Kazantzakis's

autobiography, Report to Greco]

The Towers - Muse's Advisory, Sept. 6 – Zeus:

     Elytis wrote, The light never blended with their roof,


not even a bee was fooled into beginning the golden game,
not even a Zephyr into swelling the white aprons –

but they built it anyway, raised the iron up into the light.
30 pieces of silver was the price: trim, oxford-topped beige dresses
welcomed the aprons back at last, and the white made do with that.

     Miriam purred, I'll wear whatever dress you buy me.


But while I was shopping in the Taisho-ya Kimono Store,
a damn gnome tried to jump me and I blew up
with unfortunate results for all of Nakajima:
Nakajima-honmachi and Motoyanagi-machi, Tenjin-machi, Kobiki-cho 
and Zaimoku-cho, Nakajima-shinmachi, the Sekaikan Cinema,
the shrine, the brush-shop, the teahouse and the camphor trees.

     She promised, I'll meet you in front of my cathedral.


As I exited the Michino-o train station, another gnome accosted me
but I kept my cool until I reached St. Mary's, where fumi-e agents
forced suspected Christians to crush the Virgin's icon or be banished. 
When I saw she'd put the horns on me, I rose between the spires
and called destruction down on everyone and all.

[l. 2-4 Odysseas Elytis, trans. Keeley/Sherrard]



Voice Crying Out in the City - Muse's Advisory, Sept. 7 – John Cantell, outside Madison Square Garden:

Tom Cruise!  Barack Obama!


.
Yoko 
Ono!  Michael Jackson!
.
Tiger 
Woods!  J. K. Row ling!

   God says:


      The fields are white.
      Oh how sweet!
      Do not drift
      From the brightness,
      From the glory!
      Look to the Savior,
      Come away to Jesus!
      Oh turn ye, turn ye,
      Out on the broad way.

I was a pilgrim bound


One cold winter's eve.
I was wandering,
Drifting away from
The gospel of grace,
I was journeying,
Passing onward,
And I heard my Savior:
Cheer up, my brother,
Man of sorrows,
We're going home.

   God says:


      Have you room for
      Your blest Redeemer?
      Don't you hear
      My dying Jesus pleading?
      There's a great day,
      There is sunshine,
      Come enter the gate,
      Called to the feast!


[built mostly from hymn titles in Go-Preacher Hymn Book

www.tellingthetruth.info/brg_hymns/gopreacher.php]

Cuntagious - Muse's Advisory, Sept. 8 – Terpsichore:

A  block downtown from the Israeli Consulate,


in Mimi's Nail Salon,
Millie and Tina debate
whether the evening's last two gals were lesbians.

   “I never seen such fucked-up nails,” says Tina.


“Whatevuh them two girls is doin' is just 
nasty!”

   “They both straight-up dykes if you ask me,”


says Millie. “You could tell it from them arms!
You seen those arms? Them girls is heavy duty
with the weights and shit. Know what I mean?”

   “Jews always pick those scary snake designs!


And did you see  those fuckin' spike-toe shoes?
Them girls some mean-ass lesboes!” Tina says.
“$10 says they goin' at it right this very second!”

   “All four of their tits is less than one of yours,”


Millie observes. “But lezzies love that kind of tit.
Know what I mean? Reminds them of a man's.”

   “I wish my tits were more like yours,” says Tina.


“Not these huge balloons but not too little neither.”
                                                      
   “You do? You want to see? I'll show you them.
Slide down the shade. I want to see yours too.
like 'em big–”

   “As long as we ain't lookin' at our pussies.”

A block downtown from the Israeli Consulate,
in Mimi's Nail Salon,
Millie and Tina debate
what women can or cannot do and still be straight.

A loud knock on the locked and curtained door. 


The two gals giggle, hold their breath, 
and race to button up their shirts. Another knock, a cry.
"Is anybody still in there? I'm desperate!"



Millie opens the door a crack
and Tina sees her blush.
Amelia Earhart stands there naked as a robin,
right down to her reddish bu
sh!

Rent Tomb

                                  
Polimnia con Fuoco  Muse's Advisory, Sept. 9 

               On this day in 1965 Los Angeles  a Japanese Navy E14Y Yokosuka 


                 Dodger Sandy Koufax 
executed  On this day in 1942 an Imperial
            float plane dropped an 
incendiary  history a tight 1-0 victory over the 
               bomb on an Oregon state 
forest  the 8th perfect game in baseball    
             Chicago Cubs at Dodger 
Stadium  long-ranged underwater aircraft   
                in Los Angeles Although 
Koufax  Launched from the Japanese
              carrier I-25 Fujita Nobuo 
piloted  from 1955-1961 from 1962-1966
               the light airplane to Oregon 
and  won just games 36 to 51 losses
             he put in the record books 
what  Mount Emily alighting the state
           are maybe the 5 greatest 
seasons  fire bombed Wheeler Ridge on
                  forest and ensuring his 
place  Koufax's fastballs seemed to rise
                   as the only combatant in 
U.S.  by a pitcher in baseball history
                   as they reached home 
plate  United States Washington quickly
            blazing past batters His 
infamous  history to bomb the continental
               ordered a coast to coast 
news  knees almost always crossing the     
               blackout for the sake of 
morale  curve ball buckled at the hitter's
              plate as a strike after 
following  and Fujita eventually went home
             a parabolic path as he 
amassed  No long-term damage was done
           as a hero and was reassigned 
to  the middle of the Cubs order and
                 training kamikaze pilots 
After  the perfect game Koufax faced
             struck out Ron Santo and 
Ernie  as peace gifts his family's 400  
                Banks in the 8th inning 
before  the war he gave his former enemies
       year old samurai sword and 
planted  although the Cubs said afterward
              a yew tree at the bombing 
site  striking out the side in the 9th
       they always knew what was 
coming  where a daughter buried his ashes


[built from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nobuo_Fujita &
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sandy_Koufax%27s_perfect_game]

between
    two
minarets

                                                                        
muse's advisory sept 10
                                                                       romanticism of the machine

high high time for


my grand gesture                                                                                                                                                                                
                          the 400m mashrabiya minoruts                                     high
                          on yamasaki's masjib al-haram
                           
                                                                     koenig's grosse kugelkaryatide
                                                                    representing a ruptured kaaba

                           nagare's cloven cloud fortress


                           spreads thighs to the rapture
                                                                                                            high
aesthetic planes 
welded together

                           he assimilates it as he does volcanoes erupting


                           tsunamis & earthquakes welling inside his veins
                                                                                                            high

a bearded bum a-glitter with fleas


in his Russian egg of flannel coats

                                                  roaring

 
                                                  roaring

                                                                                                                    


10,000 life forms underneath his nails

                                                             a white-silver 18-wheeler pulled off


                                                           at the west street edge of the plaza

                           the driver's head thrown back & back


                           & back in the red blink of the hazards

                                                                                                            high


                           5 port authority police 
                           share predawn laughs

                                                                                                               on


wet hands & knees
an old fiend crawls                                                                                 over
                               the flattened galaxy of the fountain's floor                  


high                        for coppered zinc and nickeled copper coin           time

No - Muse's Advisory, Sept. 11 – unknown:

One thing I'll clarify.


I don't subscribe to Time
or 
Life  or Christianity Today.
Your cries make less noise
in my ear than schoolchildren's
soap bubbles failing.
I don't smell anything:
I didn't smell your Auschwitz
or your Abel's off
ering.

Twin Dronings in the Hearing Room - Muse's Advisory, Sept. 12 – Urania:
"We looked at every possible thing we could think of that could happen

to the two towers, including an airplane hitting them," said lead structural

engineer John Skilling. “A B-25 bomber had once hit the Empire State Building.

Our analysis showed the buildings could withstand the impact of Boeing 707's.

There would be a horrendous fire but the building structures would survive."
“A trust exists between builders and occupants, and with firefighters,”

said forensic architect Roger Morse. “That trust was broken." The builder in

charge of structural fire-proofing, Louie 'the Bone' DiBono of the Gambino

family, was in St. Mary Cemetery in Queens on 9/11. He'd been found riddled

with bullets in the front seat of a Caddie in the WTC basement parking level.

On the Air - Muse's Advisory, Sept. 13 – Day 3 broadcast:

...Windows on the World waitress, whose white apron flew up, blinding her


as she fell, told Sky News correspondent Eric Blair that Jackie O. had been
at brunch with God's mother Mary, sipping demitasses reeking of Sambuca,
when legendary aviatrix Amelia Earhart emerged from the oncoming jet's 
port cockpit window wearing nothing but...

...a red-eyed truck driver from Tennessee claims a large, bearded, vagrant 


man climbed atop the sculpture known as 'The Sphere' and raised his arms
toward the sky, as two slinky and well-accoutred young women ran up,
brandishing what looked like eerie rays of greenish light...

...visibly shaken spokesman said that the substitution of Martin Scorsese’s


1976 Oscar-nominated 'Taxi Driver' for Ang Lee's 2000 Oscar-nominated
'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon' as inflight movie for the Boston-to-L.A.
flight had been requested by passenger David Angell, creator of the sitcom
'Frasier,' but had not yet been OK'd by the flight crew...

...47-year-old Jackson 5 fan and street-corner evangelist John Cantell of Noel,


Missouri, had appeared suddenly, attempting to intervene on behalf of an elder, 
possibly Arab man scuffling with guards in the North Tower entry foyer
following a routine request for identification, to which he replied, quote,
'Yeshua and Kazantakis would never demean themselves and produce id's!'

...Buckingham Palace Correspondent says the Queen is pulling in all the laundry


and dispatching her firstborn His Royal Highness Prince Charles Philip Arthur
George Prince of Wales Knight of the Garter Knight of the Thistle Knight Grand 
Cross of the Order of Bath Knight of the Order of Australia Companion of the 
Queen's Service Order Privy Counsellor Earl of Chester Duke of Cornwall Duke
of Rothesay Earl of Carrick Baron of Renfrew Lord of the Isles and Prince and 
Great Steward of Scotland, in the company of Lady Camilla Parker Bowles,
great-granddaughter of Alice of Pleasure House in East Sutton in Kent, chief 
mistress of King Edward VII from 1898-1910, to fly to New York City as soon as 
airports there opened, to convey the Royal Family's deep condolences after...

...PM Tony Blair deplored 'absolutely shocking events taking place in America'...



Muse's Advisory - Sept. 14 – Euterpe to Tom:

Just stop. Don't take another step.

Who is answerable, except yourself,
for this unfolding lapse in judgment?

Stop in mid-air. In mid-sentence.

That prince chained to an iron ring–
in agony of fleas, lice and incontinence–
knows all too well what happens when
you bite off more than you can chew.

Sure, I got to meet my mythic dad.


You had your bit of fun with God,
the Blessed Mother and their Son.

But now you're sketching out a soaring,


grand, love-conquers-all finale?

How Titanically  boring.

Don't do it. Let furled canvas lie,
let time and mold and wind-salt worry it 
to shreds, text messages and tweets.

30 centuries of puffing hot air into sails,


and aren't we still row ing the galley?

Instead, turn hands and lips to me,


Euterpe. Plain Jane with a flute,
who sees a future on dry land.

My urgent, fond and desperate advice:

this dimmed poem's wick is burning low,
and when it finally splits–
one wisp of cursed black smoke,
one specklike eye in clear hot wax–

fly fast and take me with you!

No luscious dish,
no leather dominatrix bent to kinky sex,

I'm just a chubby, whistling waitress,


moonlighting on Sunday as a ticket-taker 
on the slow train into Minneapolis,

and animated by the simple wish


to sing a human child to sleep at night.

Please.
Take me with you when you go.



Ill-Conceived - Muse's Advisory, Sept. 15 - Yeshua to Hephaistos:

When the day comes 


that we take these hardhats off,

surrender the tiny bits of bone of Zeus


to the tiny bits of bone of Miriam
and bid them both a happy ever-after—

requiescatis in pace, 
as the 
pater  prays—

when we've sifted every inch of rubble,


cheese-clothed out the last remaining mote
of the prick whose sown oats gave us life,

what then?

It's me and you I'm worried about, my friend.

Nobody's ever going to let me live or  die 


in peace, and 
you're  inhumed in such obscurity,
it's death in life, as if you never lived at all—
not heir but minor actor in your sire's bio-pic. 

We might as well go have a drink.


I'll try to love you all I can,
but how exuberantly can you feast 
on hearty lentil soup from me 
who wears the mantle of your birthright,
though unwillingly?

The whole thing is distasteful, I agree.


Why did he 
have  us
if our patrimony's only 
gravel-speckled, lygus-stunted pulse
steeped thirteen days
in rancid misery?

He left us better-heeled


if he had sheathed his wooden phallus
swollen with its hidden load of offspring—

cooped that god-sized cock


inside a £1 Trojan magnum.

Was it your countryman who said,


Mὴ βλάπτειν? 
First do no h
arm?


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