“Ghetto Defendant”

[/ – Allen Ginsberg lyrics]

/ starved in metropolis
/ hooked on necropolis
/ addict of metropolis
/ do the worm on the accropolis
/ slamdance the cosmopolis
/ enlighten the populace

hungry darkness of living
who will thirst in the pit?
/ hooked in metropolis
she spent a lifetime deciding
how to run from it
/ addicts of metropolis
once fate had a witness
and the years seemed like friends
/ girlfriends
her babies can dream
but dreams begin like the end
/ shot into eternity
/ methadone kitty
/ iron serenity

ghetto defendant
it is heroin pity
not tear gas nor baton charge
that stops you taking the city

/ strung out committee
walled out of the city
clubbed down from uptown
sprayed pest from the nest
run out to barrio town
/the guards are itchy
forced to watch at the feast
then sweep up the night
flipped pieces of coin
/ broken bottles
exchanged for birthright
/ grafted in a jiffy

/ strung out committee
/ sitting pretty
/ graphed in a jiffy
/ no pity, pretty

the ghetto prince of gutter poets
was bounced out of the room
/ jean arthur rimbaud
by the bodyguards of greed
for disturbing the tomb
/ 1873
his words like flamethrowers
/ paris commune
burnt the ghettos in their chests
his face was painted whiter
and he was laid to rest
/ died in marseille
/ buried in charleville
/ shut up

soap floods oil in water
all churn in the wake
on the great ship of progress
the crew can’t find the brake
klaxons are blaring
the admiral snores command
submarines boil in oceans
while the armies fight with suns

Qu’ul cuda praedex nihil!

Knight Slayer of Shai’ tan
الافتتاحية من الفتاحات
Majordomo of Hell and Terra’s Skies
Order of the Black Rose of the Empire
Ayatollah of Rham and its Shadow
Fair Judge Executioner of Souls
Quarterer’s Order of the Descending Aorta, 1st Class, with diamonds, rubies, platinum concertina, golden concertina, gilded pancreas, emerald gall bladder, platinum spleen, mesentery and lymph nodes
Lady Gaoler of Dis
Chief Engineer Hellac Power & Light
Womb of Empires
Order of the Superior Vena Cava
先生 立石 上様
Fifth Sea Lord of Hell
Comptroller of the Currency
Chair, Hellac Consumer Products Safety Commission
Oracle of Elections
Order of the Obsidian Heart [Mot. Pict. Arts & Sci.]
Order of the Obsidian Heart [Tort]
Order of the Obsidian Heart [Fluid Dyn.]
Chair, Hellac Commission on Sentient Being Rights
Lady High Justice of the Court of Acts & Merits
Knight Commandrix of the Hellac Gordian Knot of Gold
Knight Commandrix of the Hellac Gordian Knot of Silver
Keeper of the Keys of all the Gates of Hell
Qadi of Hades
Chamberlain Imperial of the Necropontiff of the Universal Fatean Church
Order of the Quartz Heart [Eng.]
Order of the Quartz Heart [Journ.]
Order of the Quartz Heart [Metaphys.]
Order of the Quartz Heart [Philos.]
Countess-Palatine of Sheol
Marquise di Gehenna
Empress Consort
White Rod
President Pro tempore Bax Culdnu
Managing Editor—Breaking News
The Dis Brimstone Daily Pitchfork
169 Melnar 3 AS


  1. This is the only one I knew before; The part III is said to only exist as audio.(???)

    Howl, Parts I & II
    Allen Ginsberg, 1926 – 1997
    For Carl Solomon

    I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
    starving hysterical naked,
    dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking
    for an angry fix,
    angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
    connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
    who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking
    in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating
    across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
    who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw
    Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs
    who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes
    hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the
    scholars of war,
    who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing
    obscene odes on the windows of the skull,
    who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their
    money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through
    the wall,
    who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo
    with a belt of marijuana for New York,
    who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise
    Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night
    with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and
    cock and endless balls,
    incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in
    the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson,
    illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,
    Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns,
    wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of
    teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon
    and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn,
    ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
    who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from
    Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of
    wheels and children brought them down shuddering
    mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of
    brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,
    who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford’s floated out
    and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate
    Fugazzi’s, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen
    who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to
    Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,
    a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the
    stoops off fire escapes off windowsills of Empire State out
    of the moon,
    yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and
    memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of
    hospitals and jails and wars,
    whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and
    nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on
    the pavement,
    who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of
    ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,
    suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and
    migraines of China under junk-withdrawal in Newark’s bleak
    furnished room,
    who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad
    yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken
    who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing
    through snow toward lonesome farms in grandfather night,
    who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and
    bop kabbalah because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at
    their feet in Kansas, who loned it through the streets of
    Idaho seeking visionary indian angels who were visionary
    indian angels,
    who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in
    supernatural ecstasy,
    who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on
    the impulse of winter midnight streetlight smalltown rain,
    who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz
    or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to
    converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and
    so took ship to Africa,
    who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind
    nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of
    poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,
    who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the FBI in
    beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark
    skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,
    who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the
    narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
    who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square
    weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos
    wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten
    Island ferry also wailed,
    who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and
    trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,
    who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in
    policecars for committing no crime but their own wild
    cooking pederasty and intoxication,
    who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off
    the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,
    who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists,
    and screamed with joy,
    who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors,
    caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,
    who balled in the morning in the evenings in rosegardens and
    the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their
    semen freely to whomever come who may,
    who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob
    behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond & naked
    angel came to pierce them with a sword,
    who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one
    eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew
    that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does
    nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden
    threads of the craftsman’s loom.
    who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a
    sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the
    bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and
    ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt
    and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
    who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the
    sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared to
    sweeten the snatch of the sunrise, flashing buttocks under
    barns and naked in the lake,
    who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen
    night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and
    Adonis of Denver–joy to the memory of his innumerable lays
    of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses’
    rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt
    waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings
    & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, &
    hometown alleys too,
    who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams,
    woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up out
    of basements hungover with heartless Tokay and horrors of
    Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment
    who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the
    snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open
    to a room full of steamheat and opium,
    who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of
    the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of the moon &
    their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
    who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at
    the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,
    who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full
    of onions and bad music,
    who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and
    rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,

    who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame
    under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of
    who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations
    which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish,
    who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas
    dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,
    who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,
    who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for
    Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads
    every day for the next decade,
    who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave
    up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought
    they were growing old and cried,
    who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison
    Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of
    the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of
    the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister
    intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs
    of Absolute Reality,
    who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and
    walked away unknown and forgotten into the ghostly daze of
    Chinatown soup alleyways & firetrucks, not even one free
    who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway
    window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried
    all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot
    smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s
    German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into
    the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of
    colossal steamwhistles,
    who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to the
    each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or
    Birmingham jazz incarnation, who drove crosscountry
    seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had
    a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,
    who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to
    Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver &
    brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find
    out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
    who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each
    other’s salvation and light and breasts, until the soul
    illuminated its hair for a second,
    who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible
    criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their
    hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,
    who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to
    tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific to the
    black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the
    daisychain or grave,
    who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism &
    were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury,
    who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and
    subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of
    the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of
    suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy,
    and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol
    electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational therapy
    pingpong & amnesia,
    who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong
    table, resting briefly in catatonia,
    returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and
    tears and fingers, to the visible madman doom of the wards of
    the madtowns of the East,
    Pilgrim State’s Rockland’s and Greystone’s foetid halls, bickering
    with the echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the
    midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life
    a nightmare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon,
    with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book flung out
    of the tenement window, and the last door closed at 4 a.m.
    and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the
    last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental
    furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the
    closet, and even that imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little
    bit of hallucination–
    ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you’re
    really in the total animal soup of time–
    and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a
    sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipse the
    catalog the meter & the vibrating plane,
    who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through
    images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul
    between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and
    set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping
    with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus
    to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and
    stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking
    with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform
    to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,
    the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting
    down here what might be left to say in time come after
    and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn
    shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America’s naked
    mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani
    saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio
    with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their
    own bodies good to eat a thousand years.


    What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls
    and ate up their brains and imagination?
    Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable
    dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys
    sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!
    Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless!
    Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!
    Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone
    soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch
    whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of
    war! Moloch the stunned governments!
    Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is
    running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies!
    Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose
    ear is a smoking tomb!
    Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose
    skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless
    Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the
    fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the
    Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is
    electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter
    of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless
    hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!
    Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels!
    Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and
    manless in Moloch!
    Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a
    consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out
    of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in
    Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!
    Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton
    treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral
    nations! invincible mad houses granite cocks! monstrous
    They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements,
    trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists
    and is everywhere about us!
    Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the
    American river!
    Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload
    of sensitive bullshit!
    Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down
    the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years’ animal
    screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation!
    down on the rocks of Time!
    Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the
    holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roofl to
    solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the

    From Collected Poems 1947-1980 by Allen Ginsberg, published by Harper & Row. Copyright © 1984 by Allen Ginsberg. Used with permission.

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