Thursday, June 27, 2019


John Shearer at Attic working it.
photo by Bill Ray


God With Revolver

The inside of the body pushes towards the outside

And I push myself through streets full of men

Cafes full of men. I order a coffee from a man

Men push through the street in front of the cafes

Bargain in black eyes

My life overflowing its bounds

I can't buy food, negotiate the streets

or bargain in this life

There are men everywhere the

magnificent saber of Islam in their eyes

Men terrify me

Beauty terrifies me

Beautiful men terrify me

and I would faint in the Barbes mud

the inside of my body pushing towards the outside

I sit in a cafe in Barbes

and a woman walks by in tears

The God of Islam is the God of Love

and I know that love is a terrible thing

and a god of love will finish my life

Love is the steepest bargain

of terrible price.    The heart

pushes towards the outside the

heart is a souk

one civilization dents another

pushing towards the outside

and I would pass out in the

market-place men everywhere

My life not such important merchandise

The inside pushes me further out

I would die here without murder or suicide

Barbes or Essaouira full of men

The God of Islam, eighteen

years old. 100 francs a

God with a revolver

Barbes Dec 4, 1981

Rene Ricard
God With Revolver
Hanuman Books