Notes on a history of the Gorilla Marching Band
So discover bare bones
Enough to restore
Unnamed heroes
Who sucked the Sugar
Dry it may disguise
Names on silver linings LOUD
Its form-cloud like a tree-free
Not three in the moaning
Complete wheeled Dedi-Meditation
The trend like three is toward
Fuck USA news singing offhand zen
Violin-global revoltion when
One day hundreds could get wise
A-cost major dreads and mock living
And zazen meetings and refusing
Refuse: rad mon a-cause me
Eyes a trend toward revo-ligion me
A-cause Che’s a loud voice
Ow we saw it all all along
Suck the SugarCOMpany down
This phrase ended when
Our theater ’came a parking lot
Since then we live in parks
Stir-ink ’gagements like low-rent
Pina Coladas & mixed media
Brecht’s Mother Currage
With a talk on Vietnam
And heads came oh
With poet Ferlinghetti
First light-show rocket
Dance at the Fillmore
Auditorium November 1965
Our work always referred
To political concerns & now
Come gradually to direct
Engagement on dem walls
Up against which the
Motherfuckers we
Invited to get wuz
Spose-ta get
What a timepiece we
Played an’ which exploded
Race-y clichés before Black Power
Opened in 1965 & toured the USA
And Canada wid Lenny during
Which-time dem prophecies
Actualized & Vietnam e-Scalated
Pure conscio-disillusion ’at
Soldier & his response
L’amant militaire
Commedia del Olive Pits
Touring waycross de-country
Hitting a-jump a-head dem
Dow recruiters laid low
New Yor-key kings us such-a
Gorilla Marching Band
We found that to play
An audu-lence conscious of crisis
We had to know what we had to say
The new or neo-absurdiest
Destination-less trips divine
Right’s Re-spons-J’bility &
Revolutionary exposure
Building a concrete alternative
So ex-tend the Package
Try some of mine he said
As he took a couple
Homemades out his Pocket
Now I’m gonna Bust you
That’s what You Think
Suck da Sugar Company
Walk away
Jist a-nothin y’may say
No signature even dis
Insomniac wandering
Early morning city gray
Laundermat reading littyray-ture
Left by incipient Christians
Noises in the Catacombs
Send my friend outside t’see
Y’know who ‘e was
Him uz us & her-too
Never went away
Will never go No way
.
Courtesy of Sam Santos-Dumont
studio arago 