Neil Strauss - The Long Hard Road Out Of Hell

Vielen Dank für Ihr Interesse an diesen Arbeiten, die ich Ihnen hiermit anbiete. Ich freue mich schon auf mein Abonnement von Night Terrors Magazine.

Hochachtungsvoll,

Brian Warner

* * *

PIECE DE RESISTANCE

When the fork eats the spoon,

and the knife stabs

the face reflected in the plate,

dinner is over

* * *

STAINED GLASS

In the wooden silence

genuflecting fornicators

seek penance and

false-toothed idealists

throw grubsteaks on the offering plate.

light a candle for the sinners

light a fire

Self-pronounced prophet, parable-speaking Protestant

preaches his diatonic dogma,

disemboweling indiscreetly.

supplicate

congregate

the world looks better through stained glass

light a candle for the sinners

set the world on fire

Falsities

Falsities

Falsified factualities;

All sitting like eager sponges,

soaking up the tertiary realities of life.

* * *

HOTEL HALLUCINOGEN

Lying in bed contemplating

tomorrow, simply meditating,

I stare into a single empty

spot, and notice a penetrating

of two eyes looking up and

down and at various odd angles

secretly inspecting me; and I

feel my stare tugged away

from the blank screen in

front of my eyes and directed

at the eight empty beer cans

forming an unintentional pyramid.

And I close my lids to think -

How many hours have passed

since I constructed such an

immaculate edifice of tin?

Or did I create it all?

Was it the watchers?

I open my eyes and return my stare to the pyramid.

But the pyramid has now

become a flaming pyre, and

the face within is my own.

What is this prophecy that

comes to me like a delivery boy,

cold and uncaring of its message,

asking only for recognition?

But I will not fall prey

to this relevation of irrelevance

I will not recognize this perversion

of thought.

I will not.

I hurl my pillow at the

infernal grave, as if to save my

eyes from horrific understanding,

and I hear the hollow clang

of seven empty beer cans,

not eight -

Was it fate that left

one to stand?

Why does this solitary tin soldier

stand in defiance to my

pillow talk of annihilation?

Then, for some odd, idiotic,

most definitely enigmatic reason

the can begins to erupt in a barrage of

whimpering cries.

Does he lament because his

friends and family are gone

or that he has no one

with which to spawn?

They were gone ...

But no, that’s not the reason.

It is a baby’s cry of his mother’s

treason.

The screaming fear of abandonment.

And this wailing, screaming, whining

causes the dead cans to rise

and I can’t believe my eyes,

that this concession of

beverage containers is chanting

in a cacophony of shallow rebellion

to my Doctrine of Annihilation

that was discussed in my

Summit of the Pillow (which is now

lost among the stamping feet of the

aluminium-alloy anarchists).

I am afraid, afraid of these

cans, these nihilistic rebels.

As the one approaches – the baby cryer,

I suppose my fear now

escalates, constructing a wall

around my bed, trying to shut

everything out

but without a doubt

the cryer casually climbs what

I thought was a Great Wall

not unlike the one in Berlin.

He begins to speak.

His words flow cryptically from

the hole in his head

like funeral music: deep, resonant,

and sorrowful

He says to me: „You must

surrender to your dreams it’s just.

We sit all day planning for your attendance

and upon arrival you

very impolitely

ignore us.“

I awe, I nod involuntarily

and he closes my eyes.

No.

He gives me a pair of aphrodisiac sunglasses,

and I fall asleep in the shade.

Asleep in a field of hyacinth and jade.

When I crawl out of my sleep

I get up,

my hair a tangled mess of golden locks.

I enter the kitchen,

and go to the icebox.

I pull out a single can of beer,

and as I begin to drink

I hear

The weeping of an abandoned infant.

* * *

5. Juni 1988

Brian Warner

3450 Banks Rd. # 207

Margate, FL 33063

John Glazer, Redakteur

Night Terrors Magazine

1007 Union Street

Schenectady, NY 12308

Sehr geehrter John Glazer,

Vor zwei Wochen habe ich die erste Ausgabe von Night Terrors zugeschickt bekommen, und inzwischen habe ich das Heft ganz durchgelesen. Es hat mir sehr gefallen, ganz besonders die Geschichte von Clive Barker. Ich habe nichts mehr von Ihnen gehört und frage mich, ob Sie die Gedichte, die ich meiner Abonnementbestellung beigefügt hatte, auch erhalten haben. Ich bin nun noch mehr als bisher daran interessiert, meine Texte in Night Terrors Magazine veröffentlicht zu sehen. Ich glaube, es ist das perfekte Medium für meine Arbeit. Bitte antworten Sie mir baldmöglichst, und lassen Sie mich wissen, ob Sie meine letzten Beiträge erhalten haben, oder ob Sie möchten, dass ich Sie Ihnen noch einmal zuschicke.

Hochachtungsvoll,

Brian Warner

* * *

8. Juli 1988

Night Terrors Magazine

1007 Union Street

Schenectady, NY 12308

Brian Warner

3450 Banks Rd. # 207

Margate, FL 33063

Hallo Brian,

schön, von dir zu hören. Vielen Dank für deine netten Worte über NT; ja, ich habe deine Gedichte gelesen, und sie haben mir gefallen, aber ich war nicht der Meinung, dass sie für NT geeignet waren. Es tut mir leid; ich muss vergessen haben, darauf zu antworten. Aber bitte schick mir doch bald neue Texte; ich mag deine Arbeit wirklich sehr.

Bis bald

John Glazer

Redakteur

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