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Subterranean Culture

Áîìáà-Ïèòåð 1985


by Dzhon

Zen-master Dzhon ellucidates in an epic of haiku:

Part 1: The Council

A big scary house!
Here comes the guy with the axe!
Ouch! My head sure hurts!

Plunk plunk bloing plunk plunk
Water drops on the bonsai
Play minor-key chords.

On and on it goes.
Tiddlywinks in the dark room.
Sinister saw noise.

Miao, saw, miao!
Phantom of the Opera
Makes his big entrance.

Will it never end?
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Phantom Immortal,

Organ imploding,
Some random guitar noising
Sound effects from Dr. Who,

Symbolizing speech
Of some damn apparatchik
You just want to kill.

Part 2: The Death of Prince Fyodor

Organ is dying
As the guitar blurp-blurps
A fat man with gas.

Organ still dying
Guitar a bloated Stomock.
Get me some Digel!

Is this the sound of
Chinese water torture? Yes!
Bwing! Fart! Bwing! Fart! Bwing!

Organ still dying
Die, you motherfucker, die!
I'm losing my mind.

New sound at last!
Sqeeeeeeeeeek! Squeeeeeek! goes the saxophone.
The screams of glued mice.

Part 3: "Dvarts Kur Myaf"

Iroquois drumming
As the owl screams in great pain
Feathers being plucked.

Abrupt piano.
Here he comes…Snidely Whiplash!
Save me Dudley!

Too late…train-flattened!
A sort of silence ensues.
Then random noises.

Play that saw Jethro!
Is that man groaning in pain?
I understand why.

Now bring on the gongs
And tell-tale-heart percussion
Sounding like Pepel.

For a change of pace
Sax plays a few notes in tune.
Relentless, annoyed.

Traffic in Mid-town.
Miles Davis chased by Triffids
Then eaten alive.

4. Burial. The Beginning of Underground Culture.

Gospodi it's back!
The fucking phantom organ.
I can't stand much more.

Right back to square one.
Chord. Bwing. Chord. Bwang. Oh the pain.
Please, make it stop.

Imagining Poe:
Cask of Amantillado
Burial alive.

Bwing, blurp, bwing, blurp, bwing.
At last someone takes an axe
Gives organ a whack.

But not fast enough:
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.
Chop it to pieces!

Feedback. Fwurp. Feedback.
Beowulf vs. Grendel.
Monster roars in pain.

Slava Bogu, dead!
Bottle of vodka finished,
Time for another.