Tuesday, September 24, 2013

To Allen Ginsberg

Holy, holy, holy...But we've gone down that road already too many times. Allen, exalted Father of The Word-where exactly do you live now that I need you so badly? I think you are selfish to disappear. Who will spy on old poets at the grocery? Who will bleed scorn and spit porn at our Venal States of the Amerika? Do you think I'm child like to chase you still? An undisciplined ghetto youth and some mystic Hebrew faggot? I will retire to the wilds and always commune with you in my insulated chaos.