Monday, January 17, 2011

INVISIBLE BOY 4


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INVISIBLE BOY 4
__________________
.
Into the Whale's Belly
.
“and below that
I found a lower level
and a more rapid
tempo and I heard
someone shout”
—Ralph Ellison
Invisible Man

“Brothers & Sisters!
My text this morning will be
“The Queerness of Queer!!!”

And a congregation of voices
Answered: “That queerness is
Most queer, brother, most queer…”

“In the beginning…”

“At the very start,” they cried out.

“…and there was queeress…”

“Preach it!!!”

“…and the sun…”

“The sun, Lawd…”

“…was queerly queer…”

“Queer…”

“I said queer is…”

“Preach it, brother…”

“…and queer aint…”

“Queer, Lawd, queer. He said it’s queer!!!”

“Amen, brother.”

“Queer will git you…”

“Yes, it will…”

“…and queer won’t…

“Naw, it won’t…”

“It do…”

“It do, Lawd…”

“…it don’t.”

“Halleluiah…”

“…It’ll put you, glory, glory
oh my Lawd, in the
WHALE’S BELLY!!!”

“Preach it, dear brother…”

“…and make you tempt…”

“Good God a-mighty!”

“Oh Aunt Nelly!!!”

“Queer will make you…”

“Queer…”

“…or queer will un-make you…”

“Aint it the truth, Lawd?”

Going Down on Moses
.
And as that point a voice of
Trombone timbre screamed at me.

“Get outta here, you fool!”

“Is you ready to commit suicide?”

And I tore myself away,
Hearing the old singer of
Spirituals moaning…

“Go curse your God, boy, and die!”

I stopped and questioned him,
Asked him what was wrong.

“I dearly loved my master,” he said.
“And because I loved him I learned
How to love all white men.”

“I too am acquainted with ambivalence,”
I said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh nothing, ambivalence is just a word
That doesn’t explain. Why do you moan?”

“I moan because he’s dead,” he said.

“then tell me, who’s that laughing upstairs?”

“Them’s my black brothers, they be glad.”

“Yes, I understand that too,” I said.

“I laugh too, but I moan too.
He promised to set me free but
H never got around doing it.
Still I loved him…”

“Loved him? You mean…?”

“Oh yes, but I loved something else even more.”

“What’s that?”

“Freedom.”

“Freedom,” said. “Maybe freedom lies in hating.”

“No, son, it’s in loving, I loved him
And gave him the passion of my loins
That slowly withered away like a frost-bit
Apple. Them boyz upstairs would’ve
Done him in, dead.”

“A mistake must’ve happened,” I said.

“I’m confused.”

I wanted to say other things
But the laughing upstairs got louder.
A black brother came down the stairs,
Shouting at me. He was six feet tall.

Making Big Daddy Cry
.
“You made Big Daddy cry!”

“But how?” I said.
I looked at him. He was handsome.
I wanted to give him a blowjob.

“Askin’ him all those questions, that’s how.
Get down on your knees, white boy, and I’ll
Take care of your stupid faggot questions.

I held him tight in my grip
His soul-on-ice big black dick
Cold as a stone freezing my lips
Almost suffocating me until he
Got off & made me swallow it.
Then he allowed me to go & I
Stumbled along in a daze,
The music beating fast in my
Ears. It was dark and I
Wandered down a narrow passage.
My lips were bruised & swollen,
I had a bad taste in my mouth,
I know I’d been bad with my
Queer craving for dinge, a black
Queer tranquility, I’d never
Ever achieve. The trumpet was
Too hectic, then a tom-tom
Started beating like a voodoo drum,
Drowning out the trumpet, filling
My ears. I could hear blood
Sucking thru my ears, the cold
Veins of soul-on-ice masculinity,
I ‘d touched it, I’d sucked it,
I couldn’t stop craving it. All I
Could hear was the rhythmic
Heartbeats deep inside me,
Tyrone My dinge twin brother
Bitch-slapping me until I woke
Back up outta the dinge
Nightmare underworld, fleeing
Back into jazz, jizz, jive.

Queer and Blue
.
“What did I do
to be so queer
and blue?”

At first I was scared to death,
This new way of listening to jazz
Music demanded action, the
Kind of muy macho butching
It up that just wasn’t me,
Nevertheless, I wouldn’t
Linger down there beneath the
Surface, maybe the subtext
Would get me to act? I knew
Then that I’d never really
Listened to music before, so
I sad on the edge of the bed,
My armpits damp & sweating
All over. It was exhausting like
Holding my breath underwater
In a pool, until my lungs ached
& burst from some kind of
Weird asphyxiation, and yet
It was strangely exciting &
Satisfying for an invisible fag
To hear the silence of sound.

Hearing Around Corners
“I’d discovered
unrecognized
compulsions
of my being—
even though I
couldn’t answer
“yes” to their
promptings.”
—Ralph Ellison
Invisible Man

I could see around—
Corners since I was always
Invisible then.

But to hear around—
Corners is simply too much
It inhibits action.

I only believe—
In one thing & that’s
Action not thinking.

I might hibernate—
Covertly waiting for some
Overt queer action.

So I tap into—
The str8t buzzing power lines
All the male voltage.

Writing Invisibly
“I’ve illuminated
the darkness of my
invisibility”
—Ralph Ellison
Invisible Man

Now I play music—
My invisibility
Heard but seldom seen.

The gay compulsion—
That goes beyond not asking
Beyond not telling.

I was trying to—
Put invisibility
Black ink on paper.

It’s difficult tho—
Such short-term recognition
There’s a price to pay.

Dreamers, sleepwalkers—
The invisible victims
Lost in this dream world.

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