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live at theatre ste catherine, montreal, canada. sept 20 with amanda mabro



(KGC 2002)


Dialogue with a Leper

"Boy bands mean nothing over here,"
Said the leper in torn white cloth,
Begging for a piece of bread, or even just a crust.
"I am suffering. One handful of rice will do.
How much did you spend on your shoes?
"In the Kama Sutra, it has been written
That under no circumstance should a man be smitten
To have or wed a leper or a lunatic,
Or any foul deviation thereof.
Where's the sanity in breast implants and bleached-blond hair?
These too are afflictions,
Only of the soul." As the leper limped away, I thought
How wonderful it must be
To be just another couch-cast fantasy.
That's the American Dream, Baby!
Be yours to hold it high,
And when ye break faith with those who die,
Your stars will fly and fly and fly, high up
Onto the blue of that red & white pinstriped flag.
Is it just a paranoid state of mind,
Or was that an ocean that just flew by?
There are no true lovers in the end,
Only moments of time.
That's the story, Honey.
I read it on a dime.

(KGC 2000)


While Wandering Mont Royal

I wander through this cemetary,
Where poppies never bloom,
Amongst forgotten soldiers
Laid beneath grey assembly line tombs.

I ask a groundhog
Nibbling on an acorn by a gravestone,
"How long will monuments linger?"
He hops back into his hole.

I try to dream of death,
But everytime I close my eyes,
A car zooms by,
Rumbling over the dead.

Rank before name,
Each grave the same,
But for one ungrounded,
Balanced on a brother.

"Oh, groundhog, where have you been?"
--Just underground,

Having tea,
A deceased corporal and me.

--Did you see that red one go by,
Rumbling over the dead?
Couldn't they walk
To see Granma instead?
(KGC 2001-2002)


When East Becomes West

So you thought you could fly away from corporations, aye?
Well, looks like the whole world's westernizing now.
When India, the Mother of Spirituality,
Is also penetrated by billboards, MTV, and Pop,
Is there any chance for this neon madness to stop?
The Mahatma, Gandhi, pledged poverty,
And now he laughs on rupees.
Where's the dignity in that?
"We're all just chasing a piece of bread,"
A wise leper once said,
"Where does desire end
When every desire becomes a need?
Greed, greed, greed,
On this we feed
Until tails becomes heads
And we forget our monkey friends
And the primate within.
So off we grin,
Chasing gold.
Try swallowing a piece of metal some day,
And feel whether your hunger goes away."
(KGC 2000)


The End of Albion

So, America became Albion's economics,
While Canada concentrated on Art;
no poet capable
to write truth
And Ghosts wandered through the Sun.

Gregarious misadventures of youth still linger,
And Jesus' Father continues to spawn sons;
drama or diseases
if you want
And Thames spilled through a London.

Loneliness breeds a mischievous devil trickster god,
Who spreads premonitions about the End;
who really gives a shit
ça fait rien
And Poetry killed the Other.

(KGC 2002)


A Few Good Omens

We live in a world that has bombs,
But who's guarding the men with guns?
Who's gonna do it?
You or the elect Jew?
Nukes are a greater responsibility
Than you can possibly fathom.
You weep for the dead
And you curse their assassins.
You have that luxury-
The luxury of the satisfied-
The luxury of not knowing what we know:
That their deaths, while tragic,
Do not save lives.
And the existence of war machines,
While grotesque and incomprehensible to you,
Do not save lives.
You can't handle it
Because deep down in places
You like to talk about,
You don't want them on that wall.
You don't need them on that wall.
We use words like honour, code and loyalty.
We use these words as a smokescreen for a life
Spent defending something selfish.
You use them as a punch line!
We have neither the time nor the inclination
To explain ourselves to men who rise and sleep
Under the illusion of freedom we provide
And then question the manner in which we orchestrate it.
We'd adore it if you just said thank you
And continued your blind consumption.
Either way, we don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to.

(KGC 2002)


Did We Already Miss the Ship?

     God would probably be the greatest comedian too. The realities of space travel force us to adhere to the Eastern three-world notion of spirituality-the Earth, the Air, and the Heavens. Earth is the period of trial and there is only upward ascent. The only place that we can go down towards in the planetary model is beneath the Earth's crust into magma, a region that hell points towards, but over-dramatizes.
     If we are actually in the Age of Aquarius, as defined by astrology, or the Age of Revelation as described by Christianity or Rael, the cruelest joke that G_d could play on us would be to conduct Judgment Day without giving the hell-bound souls notice. In this sense, those of us left on the planet right now are already living in the lowest possible state, a hell on earth. We can only continue decaying with the dying planet.

(KGC 2003)


The Groundhog & The Corporal

"Ah-tension. Ah-ten-hut.
Tension. Ten-hut."
Blithered the corporal,
One eye hanging out its socket.

Down hops the groundhog for tea.
--I hope you made some for me.
"Oh, groundhog, where have you been?
I've been raising an army."

--Corporal, the only thing you should conquer

With those decaying, worm-beaten limbs,
Is your eye, back to its socket.
"Oh, pardon me, how embarassing.

"Allow me to replace it, dear groundhog."
But as he lifted the sphere
Back towards his skull,
The thread snapped

And down plopped the eyeball into his tea-cup.
Silence. And the groundhog blinks stunned.
"Oh, I've made such a mess!
And after all that fuss.

"Just stay a moment,
And I'll clean it all up."
But the groundhog could bear no more,
And turned his tail up.

(KGC 2003)


Beating Drums

I hit the hollow hill
Hearing beats by an angel.
Took Took spake the djembee.
Teep Teep sang the wazo.

She lied sitting next to me
Four-twenty, still illusion.
Krishnas chimed behind.
Children on the grass around.

She hit the resounding mountain
Hearing beats by an angel.
Took Took spake the djembee.
Teep Teep sang the wazo.

(KGC 2003)


Manifestations

The fall manifests and a full moon has winked on Hallow's Eve to be.
We wept, the trickster and me.
Sweet dreams, for those who play those nights,

those goblins will not rest
And lucky are fiends indeed,
Who go around, flaunting candy.

I saw em snorting coke on a sheet of glass,
But I passed.
I hate the candy assed.
Never had much class, candy ass,
Never had much class.
(KGC 2004)


Poetry

I have always maintained that spirituality ends where
institutionalized religion begins. While it is not impossible to be
spiritual and part of a faith tradition, the latter is not a requisite
for spirituality. If we are to have true dialogue with each other we
must do away with our religiousisms and step forward to recognize a
common humanity. I said something to this effect on March 5, 2005:
"Right now, we need to get over our religions,
embrace our spirituality, and emerge as human." I hear this sentiment
echoed in Lenny Bruce's statement: "Every day people are straying from
the church and going back to God."

I disagree with the idea that a specific form has to be attached to
one's spirituality. It is just as plausible to imagine a mature and
intelligent human being forming their morality on the cumulative
assessment of sources as diverse as the Upanishads, the Torah, the New
Testament, the Qu'ran, the writings of ancient philosophers and
mathematicians, Gandhi's autobiography, Mein Kampf, The Satanist's
Bible, Origin of Species, or Origen. One need not, rather should not
agree with everything in any one book, especially since
contradictions, inconsistencies, and flaws in ethical reasoning can be
ascertained in each. Any institution based on such narrow-minded
principles is not equipped for the realities of the current
millennium.

(KGC 2005)


Cut Grass and Watermelon

i remember turning soil for yellow marigolds
and varieties of impatience growing along the fence.

i remember the smell of lighter fluid
burning through the coals
foreshadowing fat and marinate
sizzling on white ash.

i remember the blithe spirit of youth pulsating
while savours of cut grass and watermelon
haunt my tongue.

(KGC 2005)


Só makes a valid point about the slippery slope of judging another's
authenticity. His comments on Hindus, however, must be elaborated
upon. We must all first understand that there is actually no such
religious faith that can properly be called "Hindu," without
influencing the conception of the very nature of the spiritual
structure that existed in Indian society as it became known to and
labelled by European colonials. One might indeed argue that the
religion of India at one time was properly authentic, during the time
from even before the implementation of the caste system, the style the
oldest scriptures point back to, the goal of these (non-"Hindu")
ascetics so intensely personal that it defied the seemingly objective,
never necessitating a label for their spiritual journey.

I don't have much to say about Islam for now, but I do agree with
unconditional love. I wish it to everyone.

(KGC 2005)


Strawberries and Dandelions

She nibbles strawberries and dandelions,
That silly little mouse
Who nestles next to me.

She breathes cinnamon and lilies,
That cuddling koala bear
Who swings upon the tree.

She tipples mango and bird of paradise,
That wee slippery fish,
Who swims our river free.

(KGC 2005)