A man in thought walking Unhappy with himself Unhappy with all the desperate Need he couldn’t combat Muttering the beginning of a poem He had read in frenzy, in a meaningless Reading binge, is stopped suddenly

By a blue black Siamese kitten – That old superstition about being crossed By a cat that he believes in, as he believes In ghosts and apparitions, stops him.

And then as suddenly he Finds the kitten running towards him And rubbing its silky sleek fur Over his ankles, his meowing Joins her meowing, becomes poetry And his bitter curled lips Break into the first unforced smile Of the day.

Day is taking earth Into it’s speedily length- -ening arms.

In a grove of pine trees And their spearing shadows I wait for this embrace of lovers To end, for the horizon’s Door to close, for city towers To preen like high class Whores as those mostly unseen Stars hurtle farther away

From the half moon yet to Come on blinking behind The clouds, like an exit light Above an empty (except for me) Theatre’s double doors
And for the boogeyman Night, with his sack of crickets Singing all night in wells, To come.

(after Allen Ginsberg’s "America")

America, I am free here To wade through tall grasses Of dollar bills. I lay me down

And dream of taking over The world. I don’t understand Why the world is so hard

To digest even in dreams. America stretched from sea To shining sea, I am hopping

Through your vast unmarked mine Fields of billboards with lewd Neon lips on one leg.

I am a poor imitator of those Whose are forced to eat metal churned Out by your factories everyday, America.

Metal confetti thrown from helicopter Gunships. Metal blooming like poppies in spring. Metal too is the shell in which I crawl across

You America. You also give me Books. I lose myself in your libraries I am happy feasting all day.

America, why are our hungers Both so terrible to this earth? When will we learn to be content?

America, why are your prisons So huge? Why am I so empty Here, America?

I wander through your hilly breasts, Through your dark woody hair, And drink your riverine love fluids

America, you lovely orgasmic thing. How much happiness have I Known here. And how much pain.

America, why are we divorced From reality here? Have a cocktail Of viagara and prozac after every meal,

Read Whitman and ask what is reality But a leaf of grass?
What do we need a cure for, America?

America, let’s do it fast. Let’s do It slow. Let’s say ‘Hallelujah!’ Let’s say ‘Hosanna, Hosanna!’

As God falls like autumn leaves Over our bodies coiled in the grasses, Tight as serpents, ready to strike!