Allen Ginsberg

–~~ AG ~~–

 

                           dream

     spent the morning
                                     visiting
            many parts of London kept noticing
     Allen Ginsberg
            on a bus
                     in a shop
                           crossing the road
            slightly hunched busy
            carrying papers in a wallet
                     maybe shopping
            ordinary tired clothes
     as I keep on seeing him
            maybe I could give him my poems
                     to look at maybe I should
            all of them all five hundred
                           no just some of them

     late afternoon            I am walking
            down Eglinton Hill melting ice-cream light
                     some satisfaction with the day and
                           cream soda
     slowly with my Nan – getting old chatting
            feels like walking with Charlotte
     ahead are cars
            one indicating right to pull out
                     another waiting just behind
                           indicating left he’ll take his place
     both waiting for another coming uphill
                           right of way complicated
            how this all happens
     another car slows downhill
            before the uphill one has still to pass
            he wants to park too but
                     he’d narrow the road cars parked
                           right and left
     he rolls further down and parks on the right
                           much more space
            opposite number 46
                           I wonder if Allen
            is in the car
                     the car is medium blue
                           a good ten years old
                                     tired but working
            filled with stuff only room for the driver I think
     yes it’s Allen getting out of the car
            does he live here
     Nan asks if Assiki is in Malta
            I don’t know but say I think so
                     Allen hears and nods yes
            as we pass – that is where Joe
                     or Jon have got to now travelling

     go on give him your poems
                     don’t walk past and pretend you’re OK
                           give them
            but I am reticent
                           because I don’t like to ask

     fracture into the breakfast room or the upper kitchen
                           cluttered full of stuff
            space for only one at the table
                           Allen has made some tea
            and sits down to turn the pages
                           of my script

 

–~~ AG ~~–

 

                                   Allen Ginsberg smiled
                                   through the cubist cuts and planes
                                   of the fifties’ sixties
                                   and the sixties’ seventies
                                   lives glancing straight at me
                                   at times shoulder to
                                   shoulder with them all
                                   hunched balding bearded
                                   nodding repeating and dying
                                   so inevitably and know-ably
                                   oooh

 

–~~ AG ~~–

 

                                     1954

                                in Mexico
                                Allen Ginsberg didn’t
                                work on the plantation
                                much but lay
                                on his side
                                in the hammock writing
                                in his journal

                                and reading
                                out of the journals
                                would come a voice

                                that would shake the trees
                                like the monkeys
                                in the jungle

 

–~~ AG ~~–

 

                                              the cure
                                              for block

                      when you are inhibited in flow
                                ears flat crouching
                      read some Allen Ginsberg
                                the great loosener

                      contains open care
                      able open naïveté
                      inexorable naïveté

                      that catches a groove
                      that catches a naïve
                      that catches an open

                      through the wiles connives and flattery
                      of the powerpolitico accomitvoid
                      evasiagendal scruplelogicless

                      humanomanagerialasphyxia
                      virus which causes so much
                      snot

 

–~~ AG ~~–

 

                                              what …

                      … did Allen really describe
                      the contents of his room
                      and make it mythic with
                      the happening of his love?

                      was that all?

                      yes

 

–~~ AG ~~–

 

                                                   1958

                                “everybody high nobody
                                 had nothing to say
                                 the high trees
                                 the sky”

                          from Allen Ginsberg’s journals, Paris

 

–~~ AG ~~–

 

from Allen Ginsberg’s Journal, August 13th, 1944

                      “she smiled at me [and]
                           my watch forgot to tick”

 

–~~ AG ~~–

 

                                   guileless naïveté –
                                   a biographical
                                   manifest –oh!

                                   do not preclude writing
                                   dressed in poetic ideas

                                   open to new-dity
                                   looking at everything
                                   all over again
                                   fifty years on

 

–~~ AG ~~–

 

                                so sad
                reading Allen Ginsberg’s laments throughout his sixties
                                as if his American speech as mantra
                                had not been sufficient

                                                              still
                                              the collapse of old age and illness
                                              strips away everything

                                                              but the still-
                                                              vulnerable child
                                                              come along for the
                                                              ride

 

–~~ AG ~~–