January 22-28, 2001: Laurence F. Hawkins and S.A. Griffin


 

week of January 22-28, 2001

Laurence F Hawkins and S.A Griffin

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Laurence F Hawkins
lfhawkins@gorge.net

Bio (auto)

Let us say I live quietly on the edge of a shoreless dry sea near Kleadrap, Oregon Came of age in the late fifties, hitchhiking between San Francisco and Venice West with a pack full of Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti, Corso, Kerouac, Burroughs, et al for company That was an exciting time for poetry Today is an exciting time, in a different way Over the years filled numerous voluminous journals with words, published some, burned many Established Trout Creek Press and produced chapbooks, and the Dog River Review for fifteen years — alas, the Dog now a victim of euthanasia, and the press too stiff with arthritis to print again

The following work is Copyright © 2001, and owned by Laurence F Hawkins and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.

Envy the Make and Mask of Death
.for the memory of Gregory Corso

Goodbye my dear Gregory,
underground Gligoric,
desolated Urso,
now a muzzled Shelleyian ox,
Goodbye No longer
can you play the mad yak
hitchhiking on the highway
claiming the ocean chases the fish No longer can you pretend to be
an imitation of power Your Village flesh is melting away
as I weep, and write I hate the very air I breath .I smell fried shoes (You would probably say: Free the fumes )

I wanted to ask you Gregory:
Should I get married?
Should I be good?
Now, what is left?
Should I tell them you are dead?
Would they like me then?
Would they say: All right we’ve lost a poet
but gained a Death?
Owls hoot, calling your name,
and the train’s toot deflates
another ego Your bitter travel is done Your wait in the terminal is done A man crosses the street
I stand on the corner applauding him
– he made it!
(for now)
There was death,
of course,
before I was born,
not, the Death
nor,
The Happy Birthday of Death!
simply ‘death’ .To pass a dead bird,
.the notice of it is,
.yet walking on
.is gone .The thought remains
.and thought is all I know of death
Dear, dear Gregory,
dead at 70,
so few of us are left Who?
.Snyder
.Ferlinghetti
.di Prima
.LeRoi/Baraka
Who?

I already miss you,
you unkempt
hirsute
son of a bitch
I woke to the reality of cars
Long Live Man!


S.A Griffin
sagriffin@mindspring.com

Bio (auto)

S.A Griffin is a Cadillac wrangling son of The Lone Star State raised in Northern California where the palm tree meets the pine He has been living in Los Angeles since September of 1978 His grandfather was a bookie and a cardplayer, his father was a card dealing used car salesman who raised Appaloosas, and his mother was Venus on the half shell He has been a presence on the L.A poetry since 1981 and has published two books of poems, A One Legged Man Standing Casually On Hollywood Blvd Smoking A Cigarette (Shelf Life Press), and Heaven Is One Long Naked Dance (Rose of Sharon Press) He has been widely published in a number of anthologies including: The Verdict Is In (Manic D Press), a collection of poetry dealing with the Los Angeles riots in 1992 and Journal of the Gulf War: Poetry from Home (Poets Reading, Inc ) He has had his poetry widely published in numerous magazines in print and online He is the co-editor of the popular anthology The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry from Thunder’s Mouth Press in New York which chronicles alternative or fringe poetry in America post WWII to the present The Outlaw Bible was recently awarded The Firecracker Award for Best Alternative Book of Poetry He was chosen as best performance/poet by The L.A Weekly in 1989 Mr Griffin has been a contributing writer for The L.A Weekly, Angry Thoreuan, Sure-A Bukowski Newsletter, and Lummox Review among others He has served on the editorial staff of Shattersheet, The Moment and Nuthin’ Sacred and was co-publisher and editor for (Sic) Vice & Verse and The Fool Mr Griffin has been a member of poetry/performance supergroups The Lost Tribe, The Carma Bums and White Trash Apocalypse; all three groups touring extensively throughout the western U.S and Canada from behind the dashboards of his ’59 Cadillac sedan, ’71 Buick Riviera and ’66 GMC citybus In 1994, The Carma Bums traveled to The University of Washington at Seattle to create The Carma Bums International Superhighway Tour Of Words, a diverse and intense collection of poetry including sound files and a tremendous array of brilliant images created by Robert Telck, making The Carma Bums one of the first ever to have a poetry site in cyber space In ’96, Sacred Beverage Press published Twisted Cadillac, a somewhat chronicle of The Carma Bums road trips as written by The Bums themselves The L.A Times called it “an On The Road for the ‘90’s”, and beat legend Lawrence Ferlinghetti has said that it is, “a hot rod of a book” Most recently Mr Griffin was a contributing writer for the very popular Underground Guide to Los Angeles (Manic d Press) which remained on the L.A Times bestseller list for 9 weeks

S.A Griffin currently lives in Los Angeles is a father, a Viet Nam era vet, and an award winning actor having starred/guest starred in over 200 films, television shows and commercials

The following work is Copyright © 2001, and owned by S.A Griffin and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsover without written permission from the author.

2001

and the California coastline
is still
here

as always there are the
eternal rumors of
war &
.peace

the homeless still
struggle against
the elements of
progress

ideas viscerate the soul with promise

spirit orbits knowledge
like the first monkey looking for a
drop

cities rise and countries fall along with
the centuries & millennia
as the new lords of information
pave the outer reaches with
speculation

taking up fresh arms of have to carry the
apocalypse of
change

memory divines time

somewhere like Alaska there are
new prints in the virgin snow
safe in the mouth of a thousand years

here in Los Angeles on the 101 South
a hubcap has been liberated
lurching forward on the freeway
like a kamikaze coyote
piloting towards a
final rest

the perfect chaos of
something wild
forgotten before the
fall

the technology of
surprise

a teardrop like a waterfall

to remind us that we are
human
after
all

.oh
.beautiful
.nowhere

welcome

.let’s dance