Wild Orphan
Blandly mother takes him strolling by railroad and by river -he's the son of the absconded hot rod angel- and he imagines cars and rides them in his dreams, so lonely growing up among the imaginary automobiles and dead souls of Tarrytown to create out of his own imagination the beauty of his wild forebears-a mythology he cannot inherit.
Will he later hallucinate his gods?
Waking among mysteries with an insane gleam of recollection?
The recognition- something so rare in his soul, met only in dreams -nostalgias of another life.
A question of the soul.
And the injured losing their injury in their innocence -a cock, a cross, an excellence of love.
And the father grieves in flophouse complexities of memory a thousand miles away, unknowing of the unexpected youthful stranger bumming toward his door.
Allen Ginsberg
Other author posts
136 Syllables At Rocky Mountain Dharma Center
Tail turned to red sunset on a juniper crown a lone magpie cawks Mad at Oryoki in the shrine-room — Thistles blossomed late afternoon Put on my shirt and took it off in the sun walking the path to lunch A dandelion seed floats above...
Hum Bom!
Whom bomb We bomb'd them Whom bomb We bomb'd them
Cezannes Ports
In the foreground we see time and lifeswept in a racetoward the left hand side of the picturewhere shore meets shore But that meeting placeisn't represented;it doesn't occur on the canvas For the other side of the bayis Heaven and Eterni...
Father Death Blues
Hey Father Death, I'm flying Hey poor man, you're all Hey old daddy,
