Na.Na. Cymryd Iolo Morgannwg mwy o laudanum na fi er mwyn creu ffantasi sydd bellach yn hunllef. Trodd yn ii fedd-dod nawr mae'n troi yn ei fedd, wrth weld y banciau, Cyngor y Celfyddydau, a'r babell fawr yn debycach i swyddfa D.S.S. na safle o ddiwyliant. Cymrod Iolo Morgannwg mwy o opium na fi, felly ma Rolo ola Iolo i chi. A cdwch y theatr, werin, jyst ymfalchiwch fod ganddoch chi pris am y tocyn, adloniant sydd i'r dosbarth clebran, i'r actorion sydd ddim ar y llwyfran. Sa'in mynd i gael bath yn null Jenny Eirian tra'n chwibannau rhyw gytgan o set Daffyd Iwan. Mae hunanladdiadd yn ormod o ffwdan, a beth bynnag does gen i ddim pres am y trydan. A'r sdori fer wel dyma fe:
Cerdodd y dyn i lawr y stryd tu mewn ei dillad. Mi welodd ei hen gariad a gwallt nid yn felyn fel rhywbeth allan o'r Mabinogi- roedd ei gwallt jyst yn felyn. Nid oedd ei phen-ol yn ei jeans fel dau wy mewn hances boced oherwydd pen-ol oedd tu mewn ei jeans - nid dau wy mewn nances boced.
Nid oedd ei llygaid mor las ar awyr oherwydd llygaid oeddynt, nid awyr. Cymharu pethau gyda petau. Mae pethau ond yn a nid oes angen cymharu. Nawr y cysteiniaid
" Mae eglwys y glwth glwys yn gwibio" meddai'r dyn. "Hydarthedd hyderus yr Hydref" atebodd y fenyw. Nawr y plot. Sdim un. Cyn ffarwellio a hi am y tro olaf tan y tro nesaf, dywedodd y dyn:" Pan mae cariad yn dod mewn trwy'r ffenest, dylai arian fynd syth bin i'r bin". Dim ond diawled cwbl materol sy'rhy ystyfynig i gytuno a hyn. Cymrodd Iolo Morgannwg ei opiwm yn ddwfn felly mae ei Rolo ola' i hi a hwn :
1- Awyr celain, etholyddau, trydaniddio, chwd cwcwll du
2- Beth yw'r posibliadau?
3- A fyddid di yn fy nerbyn? efo breichiau, coesau agored?
4- Drws agored?
5- Afanc ifanc ei ymrannu, cont yn bybylu, a lledaenu coch coch rythm misglwyfol sy'n fwy byw na marw ac fwy marw na byw
6-7-8-9- Anarchiaeth, anarchiaeth, anarchiaeth
10- Beth yn union yw'r pwynt? Mae'r pwynt yn fanwl gywir.
10- A hanner, pwynt nodwydd.
10- A thri chwarter. Beth yw'r gair mwyaf amwys yn yr iaith?
10- A phum wythfed. Wythfed, wythfed.
Fuck cant fuck.
23- Ystyr? Pwynt? Dim?
Mae'n rhoi chwythswydd. Mae hi'n rhoi chwythswydd wrth i'r record chwarae. Ydy'r ystyr yn glir? Pwynt amwys. Ydy'r darlun yn glir? Tra ar y newyddion, torso diangen mewn cylchfa rhyfel. Lemoned orgasmaidd ar y strydoedd a'r dillad gwely. Felly priododd uffern nefoedd eto mewn potel arall o win coch, yn gras ac yn rhad. Rydw i am y brandy. Rydw i angen popeth wedi ei ddistyllu, yn feidrol. Wyt t'in fy ngharu? Wyt. Wel profa fe a sut? Wel nid yw'r cylch o gwestiynau yn dod i ben os nad wyt ti'n cyrraed y pwynt. Grym allgyrchol. Rwy 'di anghofio eistedd gyda ffrindiau yn darllen penawdau distyr papur newydd mewn tafarn. Tu allan roedd merch fach yn rhoi nodwydd yn ei cheg yn credu mae lollipop oedd ganddi. A rwyi 'di anghofio fy ffrind yn cuddio ei nodwyddau tu allan i'r ffenest, yn y gwter pan ddaeth yr heddlu, wedi i'r ty cael ei ymosod gan feddwodd. A rwy'n ceisio cofio'r teimlad mewn glendid gwely mewn ystafell wely gwesty lle roedd y tywelion a'r rhyw yn lan lle treddiais i'r nefoedd am y tro cyntaf fel y dychmygais ar faes chwarae. Ac rwy'n ceisio anghofio'r rhyw budr mewn gwely gwesty arall lle am y tro cyntaf treiddiais i uffern fel y teimlais y tro cyntaf i ti boeri yn fy ngwyneb. Tra'n chwilio am nirvana ar lethrau Everest fy meddyliau, daeth deallusrwydd yn araf. Mi gwrddais i a'r bardd Celtaidd olaf. Naw'r rwy'n trywanau am y tro olaf ac yn ysgrifennu y siec olaf. Dyma,r waltz olaf arall. Hwn yw siawns olaf, y ddawns olaf, y ddawns olaf rwy'm mynd i barhau.
No. No. Iolo Morgannwg took more laudanum than me to create a fantasy thats now a nightmare. He turned in his drunkeness now he's turning in his grave whilst seeing the banks, the Arts Council, and the big tent more similar to a D.S.S office than a situation of culture. Iolo Morgannwg took more opium than me, so Iolo's last Rolo is for you. So keep the theatre, people, just pride yourself that you've got the price for the ticket, entertainment for the chattering classses, for the actors that aren't on the stage. And I'm not going to have a bath in the manner of Jenny Eirian whilst whistling a chorus from Dafydd Iwan's set. Suicide is too much fuss and anyway I don't have enough money for the electricity.
And the short story, well here it is :
The man walked down the street inside his clothes. He saw his old lover and her hair not yellow like something out of the Mabinogi - her hair was just yellow. Her backside in her jeans wern't like two eggs in a hankerchief because it was a backside inside her jeans not two eggs in a handkerchief. Her eyes weren't as blue as the sky because they were eyes not the sky. Comparing things with things. Things are what they are and there's no need to compare. Now the consonants. "The church of the comely glutton is flitting " said the man, " The confident volatility of the autumn" answered the woman. Now the plot. Their isn't one. Before saying goodbye to her for the last time until the next time, the man said " When love comes through the window, money should go straight to the bin." Only totally materialistic devils are too stubborn to agree with this. Iolo Morgannwg took his opium deeply so his last Rolo is for her and this one:
1- Carcass sky, electioneering, electrify, vomit of a black mask.
2- What are the possibilities?
3- Will you accept me? With open arms? Open legs?
4- An open door.
5- A young beaver, cunt bubbling and spreading red, red menstrual rhythym that's more alive than dead and more dead than alive.
6-7-8-9- Anarchy. Anarchy. Anarchy.
10- What precisely is the point? The point is exactly correct.
10- And a half: the point of a needle.
10- And three quarters. What is the most ambiguous word in the lanuage?
10- And five eights. An eighth. Fuck a hundred fuck.
23- Meaning? Point? Nothing.
She gives a blow job. She gives a blow job as the record plays. Is the meaning clear? An ambiguous point. Is the picture clear? Whilst on the news a needless torso in a war zone. Orgasmic lemonade on the streets and the bedclothes. So hell married heaven once again in another bottlle of red wine, harsh and cheap. I want brandy. I want everything distilled, finite. Do you love me? Yes. Well prove it and how? Well the circle of questions don't come to an end if you don't reach the point. Centrifugal force. I've forgotten sitting with friends reading the contemptible headlines of a newspaper in a tavern. Outside a little girl was putting a needle in her mouth believing that she had a lollypop. And I've forgotten my friend hiding his needles outside the window, in the gutter, when the police came, after the house was attacked by drunks. And I'm trying to remember the feeling in the cleanness of the bed in a hotel bedroom where the towels and the sex were clean where I penetrated heaven for the first time like I imagined on a playing field. And I'm trying to remember the dirty sex in another hotel bed where for the first time I penetrated hell like I felt the first time that you spat in my face. Whilst searching for nirvana on the Everest slopes of my thoughts, intelligence came slowly. I met the last Celtic poet. Now I'm piercin for the last time, and writing the last cheque. This is the last waltz. This is the other last waltz. This is the last chance, the last dance, the last dance and I'm going to continue.
FROM - LIBERTINO, ANKST RECORDS 1993
written with scotsman Kenny Reid .
repprinted with permission
from a reluctant genius
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