“howl” still rings in my ears
after a late night drive home
through darkened streets & green
traffic lights
vishnu-ginsberg howls from my
car speakers; i howl with him
gripping the steering wheel
feeling my eyes bug & my knuckles
whiten
i feel like shaking my fist at a passerby
thrust it at them & demand a duel
ginsberg this is your fault, you bastard!
peaceful, my ass!
i have the need for whiskey & miles
i have miles, but my whiskey is long gone
consumed long ago my hangover
forgotten
(half of the poet’s dream:
neglected/disregarded)
sleep is not possible
his words (reason unknown)
do this to me i am high
on wordcoke powered
by a zeal
& miles plays on-- fueling my
mania
my hands tremble with
overdose
2 comments:
Wait a minute. Is this yours? I mean -- this sounds familiar, and yet it strikes me as something new.
Either way, this is powerful stuff. I really dug this.
yeah, its mine. i wrote it this past spring, i think.
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