To The Ghost of Jim Morrison

By: Vampyre Mike Kassel

Jim, 
you were right to take that header in the bathtub. 
If you had lived, they would have made you
better. 
They would have
tossed you into Betty Ford,
force fed you Antabuse,
bathed you in healthy thoughts, 
made you jog. 

They would have dressed you in a 
three piece black leather business suit
and taught you about real estate.

They would have made you
crawl across the pages of People magazine,
write autobiographies,
hug Phil Donahue. 

They would have made you
suck big Jesus dick,
do benefits for the Cirrhosis Foundation,
kiss the patent leather hooves
of Madd Mothers
and Parents' Music Resource Harpies. 

They would have made you
eat wheat germ and shit,
judge poetry contests, 
talk at high schools. 

They would have made you
live in a better house and garden,
save a rain forest,
sing a duet with Linda Ronstadt. 
They would have made you write
three thousand times on the blackboard of your soul:
                        "I WAS A BAD LIZARD."
They're beating on the walls of my bunker, Jim, 
shouting:
                "Ecstasy can be cured!"
                "You're not living up to your end
                 of the social contract!"
                "Do you know what that cigarette is 
                 doing to your lungs?"
There's cracks in the walls.
The Good Health Police
and Citizens for a Sane and Sober Society
have broken out the stun guns. 
They're shouting something about safe sex and crack babies.
             They want to help me, Jim. 
                                 Splash over one side, there,
                                 I'm climbing in. 
                                 This bath tub has
                                 a familiar ring. 

---

You can find the poetic works of Vampyre Mike Kassel at Zeitgeist Press.