Litkicks Message Board Archive

initiation: henry miller's big sur toilet

Posted to Poetry




off highway one in a redwood glade
near the shore where kerouac
went mad I discovered
henry’s shack
on a drizzling spring day
a belly full of brew--
yeah seen the books
where do ye piss
churlishly inquired
I the blissful
big sur androgyne
and having entered, was
somewhat unsettled—
mosaic tiles
all multicolor variations
of human fuck, silouetted couples
on small clay squares, arched
in taoist delight……invigorated,
daisy mae du jour and I
swerved up past carmel,
where starbucks chateaus
encircle jeffers' granite tower,
to cannery row...humped there
for some time

certain sections of miller
may terrify, the
langorous depictions
of exotic femmes from the paris rue:
“all cunt and a glass ass
in which you can read
the history of the middle ages”

and yeah, some of his brahma-tarotian
rants are rather nauseating,
visions that would not jibe
with wifey or boss;
innumerous fumbling artistes
will scorch their
ballad-scratching
grubbies while imbibing
henry's erotic arabesques;
cybergeeks with whom
you might hang would
think it bad joss…

though for those
haunted pariahs
outside the beltway,
lacking connections to
the bootlickers of
academe or publishing,
detesters of village
enthusiasts, scorning
the air-conditioned
catechisms of thanatopsis,

required reading