Saturday, August 7, 2010

Late Great Cleveland: d.a. levy

the wandering white
by d.a. levy (10/29/1942 - 11/24/1968)

Tulips burst their languid lips
Riveras Lenin leaps up to world chaos of fresco
shattering HAMMERS
Sombre ugly tongue of protest

if it is too tired to yell
or put it down on paper
slap it in the coughing crib
or laugh it silently
who hears it anyway?
except snakes rippling knives of grass

the blasphemy of your necessity
nigger - jew - faggot - wop
indian squaw we conned the country from your innocence
raped you with cut glass and catholic beads

We Learned So Fast
We Forget The Weight
Of Lions Eyes

Spic don't lay my sister
Chink dont poison my eggroll
Brother dont look me face to face
the color never washes out but the HATE of it IS
ivy entwining limestone

of our death
We Learned So Fast
to forget the scars

We are only clouds that darken
and rains of suffering on ourselves
cast urgent shadows in our paths
we pile our precious gems
they SPARKLE - reflect a melange of
color in the sand our dreams wash
away with the brutal surf
we understand yet
Build Our Dams anyway

We Learned So Fast
We Forgot The Weight
Of Lions Eyes

* * * * *

taken from ukanhavyrfuckinciti bak
originally collected and edited by rjs and
published by t.l. kryss, GHOST PRESS CLEVELAND, 1967

For more levy, visit



christina said...


John B. Burroughs said...

I'm gonna make this a series honoring Cleveland poets past.

michael salinger said...

looking forward to seeing more in the series

John B. Burroughs said...

I'm thinking about doing it every Saturday - but I'll be out of town this Saturday and may not have internet access, so I'll probably post the next installment Monday.

X. P. Callahan said...

d. a. levy's work featured (in a manner of speaking) today at CENTORAMA:

John B. Burroughs said...

Thanks for the turn on, X.P. I like what you're doing. Reminds me of a poem I assembled using other poet's lines: Dis(quiet) Illusion

X. P. Callahan said...

Very cool, J.C.

This blog too.


The poet doesn't invent. He listens. ~Jean Cocteau