Howl by Alan Ginsberg (1956)

Howl by Alan Ginsberg (1956)

The Shitclock

The shitclock of your life is ticking
ssssh you hush your self
better to shut up sometimes
make the rules work for you
Bite your tongue, swallow
whatever words are on your cowish mind
if you can dumb yourself down now
just for now and dont be seen
to have it shoved up
this cornucopia of crap
never silent truths
it keeps beating in your chest,
it drums in your ears
it pumps around in your head
yet you tie yourself to the mast
you resist the lure
you resist yourself
because there is so much to think of
a stuffed womb burning with your poignant gism
if not in mind in flesh
to disappropiate her belly
a house to house that stuffed cooking
of rinkled flesh of cries
the years 401 lightyears away
to extend, preserve a drained life
to keep regretting
to depend upon fear
but now finally free!
and so there is the endless path
narrow and steep of sacrifice
oh of course
to the golgotha of civic voided compliance
and you listen to the ever ticking
of the shitclock
but one day
till your rectum shits it all
in a long sigh of relief
a final jerk at last of carelessness

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