DEAR CREEM

A poem.

Creem, or at least a blending of images or maybe even jive dribble cause I’m just a 19 year-old pud, unsure in these beginnings, inspired by the music of Jimi Hendrix and cornered by his death...if you can feel it, print it. I could use the air too.

ion chargedwisp

(the condensed “x” phenomena of extra-dimensional feedback seepage focused within the grey circumference of the free-world media computer by frenzied copper-impregnated nerve tissue

convulsing in glistening desperation their spluttering imaginations tied by RCA transistor

third eye cataracts)

bursts purple

against smoking rubber shadows and showers finger arcs

streaking gamma through molten lead mazeway

stretching time’s thin crystal lace into spiral DNA moonbeams

all opening celestial megascopic sound relay

tone spring curved between stellar relationships

on axis bursting purple coils like reared pistils quivering from white froth ocean blossom finger arcs dropping dropping prominence returns to sun

Roger T. Crowley

Mount Clemens, Mich.

Originally published December 1970

DEAR CREEM