N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 0 9

MARC OLMSTED

Insecurity Wisdom

after Alan Watts

Phonebook through the plate glass of my warehouse loft stuck suspended by bookcase behind pull-down shade, freeze frame, a Batman comic panel, tossed by ghetto wild boys in nihilistic laughter –

Buddha texts inside still in place, Buddha head smiling

Unemployment soars, street homeless increase

my wife chose this storefront

I’d prefer a bunker like when visiting junkie genius writer Burroughs’ NYC converted YMCA steel door’d – even recent visit to Buddhist center 2007 Bowery 30 years from that other New York time they buzzed you in liquor store camera checking you before the rickety stairs –

My black metal collapsible baton & pepper spray hardly enough for Oakland –

But who wants robo-cop Blackwater shutdown?

People who live in glass houses, shouldn’t

4/16/09

Recent L.A. visit

Afternoon sprinklers

go off in unison

down the white concrete block

watering a lurid green strip of lawn

in front of identical Valley condos –

Bleached-out taco stands

flanked by Jurassic palm trees CGI’d

in perfect duplicate –

Pink glow dusk horizon

a Disney atom blast –

TV’s Flying Nun was in Gelson’s Market at night

in sweats w/ a facelift –

At LAX airport it is harder to leave than arrive

12/8/09

Commute

Posing in morn sun

the young white man’s surly thoughts

4/26/08

GOT JESUS? says his cap

black man slumped asleep

Summer day above ground

Last glimpse into the tunnel

5/13

Blue green gum bubble from her ghetto lips

6/12

Shaved skull gleaming

in mushroom light

dark concrete tunnel home

1/14/09

BUM LIFE graffiti w/ syringe cartoon

- troglodyte notes at the mouth of the crater

where I come up from transit to work

1/28

Calm abiding

Black legless

shaved-headphones

on wheelchair

with motor

& plastic tube of urine

bag

– still mountain

3/3/09

“Old policies, nothing but cops…”

graffiti announces near grassy lot a Latino derelict disappears in the veldt – cops roll past me eyeballing – suspect in my own neighborhood – living in Oakland I’d be dead before they arrive –

cop bar up the street, out front slattern women groupies braying Elizabeth Taylor blousy Virginia Wolf cigarettes whipping about, loud motorcycles driving home drunk –

Motorcycle cops shot at a traffic citation – itchy fingered war – our very own Blackwater op security “shoot ‘em all, let God sort them out” 13^th Century Pope Innocent III might’ve said this Crusade

First new rule: don’t hire cops who want to be cops

3/23/09

Monday morning Spring 2009

Silver Mercedes sharp new cruiser slides into the gated lot, imperious –

the streets are broken down, feral skate punks find every battered strip of curb metal to surf, daring traffic, pavement bone crack –

dull filthy linoleum of the BART train floor to work

3/29/09

headaches in progress

Rustling his paper like a ghoul –

Shouting in her self-phone explosion entering the train car –

Grey bear black man stately beaten down eyes

Faces that are headaches in progress –

Her teeth in braces horrible fangs

4/5/09

ZEMO RAYS

I.

Drowsed in your chemo bath, the fleshy pods cut –

the body cavity soaked

in nuclear tides of Zemo rays (I made that up)

what dreams, Nancy,

your lamas hovering golden-lit w/ instructions?

Peter writes e-mail “surgery thoughts” –

your husband fighting crazy mind

while you dream, drift chemical clouds, hallucinated cancer & husband

II.

coming out of BART, clear-skied light drizzle, I see brief rainbow auspicious

III.

Success!

Cauterized, cleansed of the bad flesh!

Lazarus!

Ventilator in your face you write feisty notes!

Mary Shelly chained! Lightbringer!

Zeus’ angry eagle once sent daily to eat yr liver…

Luxfere! Luck-be-a-lady!

…beak of cancery worms!

IV.

I sit before you gray flattened body propped in hospital bed

Half-dozen lama photos taped where you can see

No jokes yet from your clever mouth pursed in discomfort

(Peter, shambler, drained)

Tea to Tibetan protectors down the white sink drain

You’ll be o.k.

Plenty of time for us all to trade places –

A Swedish nurse that slams into my chair, broken English’d,

coming & going

4/7–11/09