d.a. levy

(10/29/1942 – 11/24/1968)


“Because property is not more sacred than a human life”

There are radicals and there are Radicals
and there are those who disappear in the
middle of the day

I listened to at least a million angry voices
when I was seventeen, went to meetings,
walked on picket lines

One day a Chicago pig just barely missed
putting dents in my head
I was falling into clouds of oblivion
Waiting for my brothers to fill the Space
where I had stood
And they were running in the darkness
While I was falling in the light

Yah, there are radicals and there are Radicals
and I’m not going to get my head busted
for a handful of words again

I wear a suit and tie and I am old though
only twenty.  You can barely notice me at all,
yet inside me burns an inferno
that screams of actions NOT holy doctrines
of Marx or Lenin
I don’t talk so much any more and I don’t let
the pigs get between me and the enemy either

I just go to my classes and study
Someday I’ll probably get a job as an engineer
and when I think of revolution
I must open my eyes and see where all the
money is
I used to wonder about those who disappeared
in broad daylight and now I know
where we go
Last week I threw 75 university ashtrays
into the lake – sailed them high into the air
like clay pigeons Pow Pow

Sealed ten parking meters with Elmers glue
and tonight Some hippy will call me a creep
and the r(R)adicals will try to rake my conscience
with words about the war

The system is going to fall I’m sure
next week I’m putting plaster of paris
in the toilets of city hall
I’m just making sure, it doesn’t fall on me

There must be a million ways to protest a
war economy other than getting your head
beaten to dust for television audiences

I dont let the pigs get between me and
the enemy anymore

In my pocket 100 student subscriptions
to Time magazine and 100 unknown address’s
There must be a million of us who drop tacks
in official parking lots – let them have
their special reserved spaces.
Damn it – I’ll be the first to agree
we need Law and Order
(but what does that mean?)

I can’t complain, getting clubbed by that
animal in Chicago has done a lot for me

You might call me a hypocrite, but inside
I know who my enemy is and I know who
protects him
I don’t smoke pot or talk against the system
I’m just helping it along
the mysterious road of suicide

Why would it invest its sons in korea
vietnam or praise cops that mace children
in the streets if it wanted to survive

Democracy, we all fall down as the
majority votes on information provided by
business men and war-makers and the
death rattle on the wind is ignored
                                                and the
death rattle on the wind is suppressed
by creating louder noises

It could have been a nice country
if the people had only noticed
how many people were beaten in the streets
crying for freedom

There are radicals who talk until the sun
rises and some who disappear unknown
My money goes to the movement in an
anonymous check and the school I go to
has thousands of machines waiting to be wrecked

If I went to the Regents with the students
at my back and asked the University to close
its doors for a week in protest of the war
I’d end up in jail or out on my ass

Why waste a good education getting lost
and assissinated in Proper Chanels
Someday I’ll be an engineer and know it
cost the school more than it cost me

rah rah rah for the old school spirit
and all the Puritan myths
Yah Boeing, Yah Dow
will ROTC teach me how to fire a gun?
Someday I’ll need it
I know who the enemy is
old university, On with your military research
More money from the federal govt.
You’ll need it just to replace the janitors
tired of cleaning my shit from your show
white image.

Let the kids from SDS get busted trying
to find their voice.
I’ll wear my suit and tie
My education will cost a few grand

It’s already cost you twenty-five.

I may not be honest, but no one will even
call me a commy.  I’m a quiet student.
I sit back and watch and I’ve learned a lot
from the faculty on how to screw someone
from behind.

* * * * *

originally published in QUIXOTE (Madison, Wisconsin) under the pseudonym GREGORY X
special thanks to rjs for providing the Crisis Chronicles Online Library with a copy of this poem

since d.a. levy rejected copyright as “copyrot,” you may freely reproduce and pass on his work

To view a video of Jesus Crisis reading levy’s work please visit

For more d.a. levy, check out the page clevelandmemory.org has devoted to him.
Another excellent resource can be found at

for even more by or about d.a. levy, please check out these: