Preface to A Rebirth Announcement Haiku
for Amiri Baraka, on birthday numero sesenta
Dateline: 8/11/98
Preface to A Rebirth Announcement Haiku Voice volcanoes --Bob Holman
for Amiri Baraka, on
birthday numero sesenta
Its way into ear atmosphere
Tearing its way, screaming
Hurling memory's fireball direct hit
A little launch party, wiggling fannies into
Webbed and wickered launch furniture
Canape chatter void branch into capillarious
Brunch fresheners, mimosaesque fingerlings utterly modulated
Excuse me no excuse me no me me me
Hurling a
Launching a
Do we we have lift off
Roger we jolly well got the goddamn lid popped off
The Circulation of the Universe
Just in time (When else?)
Back at you
Stand and Solo in Reality Part I.
Newark's tarry stand and reflective universe of vocal stars
No snag but the heartbreak of lies to keep the phoney wires jiggling
Collect call for Mr. Baraka, do you accept the whoosh
Orange sax blue cornet silver bone
Filtering the coffee of resistance
Through the handset
The Receiver
Ain't no Deceiver
Standing with your finger out
Standing with your finger out
Standing with your finger out
Wondering which way the world's gonna turn
Had a vision in a Voice see
Sat in a chair, started to rock
Air rocked and rocked see
The rock rocked
Where you get whipped like a whirl into into
The Voice might have been gentler
Might have been a superduper hero might've
But whipping wind leaves uproot the damn trees, Voice!
One musical moment
Where the Voice is the music not the transmitter
Dididididitdit static in the attic, shake the groans, Bones
Keep moving here, Get your feet off the bench there
Do what the damn sign says
Damn sign says Fuck You Brother
Fuck you
Now the voice lagoon-like deconstructs “like”
Into a myriad of flash fishes
Millions of tiny whispers gonna be the wind again
Tickle the whiskers off that cat
Wind-up time, hey
Pitcher delivers
I'd be a dancing fool in Stalin's basement
I'd take the Poundian contradictions and slam
That dunk, Punk
All the right nows of Etheridge Knight Night hey
Don't you mend the blend, it ain't ripped (yet)
Do not so and so and so it
Who the hell stays up all night anymore anyway
Delirious jazz night, tender paper and rugged artificiality of E-net existence
And children crawling up and down the Bannisters of Midnight
The little darlings, living model of evolution
What school they gonna go to to learn something
While behind and around
Up over and through
Through all the all
And down the hall
The Voice is singing now
A shadow song unlocking movement
Capillary action of sweet rough
Flow the blow, go on to the Now now
You and your fingers the separate but somehow
Cooperating fingers around the throat of music
Voice music pops a corpuscle's muscle
Deeper'n'deeper'n'deeper'n'deep
Voice, where you lead us?
The way out Way Out
Song itself sings itself
Flying over scorched earth
What school they gonna go to to learn something
This has been Preface to a Rebirth Announcement Haiku
Amen Amiri Amen
