pilgrimage

a summer whim
conceived over coffee
to glimpse first hand
the birthplace of duluoz

spur and a flash
with rucksack i’m gone

bearing anticipations
of inspiration

wandered downtown weary
a fugue to mark the end
off to boston and later lowell

under aiken street bridge of doctor sax
spanning merrimack of whitman
wrote postcards while cars
above ghostly moaned

later back to sleep beneath
on a little beach
scattered with broken glass

freezing before dawn, donned
every stitch i owned
until great greasy breakfast
in cambridge

then dozing and dreaming
on bus to new york
waking as the driver crazy turned
and swerved through connecticut
soon to be bronx harlem
and chinatown, soho and
central park just a
few avenues shy of
beacon motel

walking out to the streets of
grey manhattan as
rosy evening began to
fall on the asphalt
under distant towers, world
life strapped to my back
headed back to jersey

thinking of you, allen ginsberg

written 30 december 1994.  recorded 5 april 2014.

ag

what thoughts i have of you tonight, allen ginsberg
awake from cup after cup of blackmidnight diner coffee
post pool hall after hour ritual

sat in room on bed half two a.m. red candle burning
in brown bottle holder,penetrates the night with phallic fire
with wax dripping down glass, solidified tears

listening to your poetry to pass away the consciousness
perhaps expand my own
why so modest of supermarket poetry in dear old berkeley

my favorite of all you’ve written, so many tomes of moans and doldrums, can’t you see the holiness of your homage
the reverence of your admiration rests tears on cornea edges

allen ginsberg, i have only to ask
which way does your beard point tonight?

30 december 1994