Netopia

 

I

Ginsberg is dead.

 

 A Saturday morning blue sky

not a cloud in sight day

and Allen Ginsberg is dead.

They interviewed Ferlinghetti

in a ten second blurb

on the midmorning news

and I left someone standing at my door

because Ginsberg is dead

and there's nothing I can do

but listen and wait

for the chanting and tributes

to flood over the bridge

and into our conscious beings

while we mourn and celebrate

the passing to a greater reality.

 

I did the first thing I thought to do

I came to Netopia

where pain is still free

and let out a cry of cold anguish

because Ginsberg is dead.

 

With three clicks of my mouse

I saw the New York headline

bleed across my monitor

"AMERICAN POET LAUREATE ALLEN GINSBERG IS DEAD"

and reading it out loud

only made it more true.

 

I scanned the page quickly,

 those familiar words bouncing off me

like an annoying fly

Beat Generation

Guru

Kerouac ~ Burroughs

Communist ~ Cassady

Homosexual

Obscene Poet

BANNED!

 

Silence.

 

II

I posted a tribute

on the top part of my page

under the picture of the high priestess

but before any other...

"I met him you know,"

 I wanted to say.

"The photos are hanging on my wall."

Last week I finished the book

he signed for me

how ironic that is...

because Ginsberg is dead.

 

So Allen,

 Hare Krishna

I know you are watching

Peace to the Poet.

Shalom.