Poem 288 ± March 18, 2016

Daniel de Cullá
Doobie or Not Doobie

Lovers look for this snowflake
From Victor Hugo’s Hauteville House’s Garden
Overlooking the sea
In St. Peter Port, Guernsey, Channel Islands
During his time in exile from France
From many ages ago
Precisely midnight
Dominique and Me reaching spiritual illumination
As the French author inspiration for many
Of his fine works
Including Les Misérables and Toilers of the Sea
Teaching us
How to turn our miserable mess
Into a beautiful, joyful and splendid one
Saying to us from his statue:
“There’s no tyranny in the State of Exile.
Fortunately, you have a handbook that shows me
How to discover salvation
Through the pineal gland.”
Hugo described the Islands
As “fragments of France which fell into the sea
And were gathered up by England.”
A Nazi bunker built by Germans
In the II War goes round all the island
One said:
“Chaos and strife are the roots
Of all fascist boots here.”
I’m working in L’Ancress Bay Hotel
Today disappeared by a fire
As a night porter, first
And assistant of chef, afterward
The Bay is a flash of intense light
As though its very psyche
Is the fog returning
As Hugo’ spirit laughing
In happy anarchy.
I am alive and I can tell You as He:
“You are free.”
Dominique is a pretty whore
An employee of shop of clothes
Her eyes were as soft as feather
And as deep as eternity of shit.
Her body was the spectacular dance
Of atoms and universes
Pyrotechnic of pure energy
Opening her flourish haired vagina
Her cunt was my chaos
Disappointed to uncover only reference
To bloody Taoism
Revealing its scroll.
She was a diagram
Like a yin-yang with a pentagon on one side
And an apple on the other of her buttocks
Losing consciousness
In her Bloody Mary period
Being apparent that her experience
Had been whore
We discussing our strange encounter
And reconstructed from memory
The chimpanzee’s diagram
Of our Asses in Love, as Lovers Lo…
And Me asking:
Doobie or not Doobie,“Marijuana”?
She’s answering:
—Give me Cannabis, not fucking Prick¡

Daniel de Culla

Daniel de Cullá is the director of Gallo Tricolor Review, and Robespierre Review. He divides his between North Hollywood, Madrid, and Burgos, Spain.

This poem appeared in GloMag.