Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen - Страница 183
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Antique anecdotes,
rare libraries lain
back of the brain.
Now we are in bed
he kisses my head
his hand on my arm
holds my side warm
He presses my leg
I don’t have to beg
his sweet penis heat
enlarged at my hip,
kiss his neck with my lip.
Small as a kid
his ass is not hid
I can touch, I can play
with his thighs any way
My cheek to his chest
my body’s his guest
he offers his breast
his belly, the rest
hug and kiss to my bliss
Come twice at last
he offers his ass
first time for him
to be entered at whim
of my bare used cock—
his cheeks do unlock
tongue & hand at soft gland
Alas for my dreams
my part’s feeble it seems
Familiar with lust
heartening the dust
of 50 years’ boys’
abandoned love joys
Not to queer my idea
he’s willing & trembles
& his body’s nimble
where I want my hard skin
I can’t get it on in.
Well another day comes
Church bells have rung
dawn blue in New York
I eat vegetables raw
Sun flowers, cole slaw
Age shortens my years
yet brings these good cheers
Some nights’re left free
& Love’s patient with me
December 16, 1978, 6 A.M.
December 31, 1978
Shining Diamonds & Sequins glitter
Grand Ballroom Waldorf
Astoria on the TV Screen
radiant shifting goodbye to
Times Square Phantoms
waving
massed eyeglasses & umbrellas’
rainy hands over
heads
Celebrating China
diplomatic relations
Disco in Peking
Congressional black & tan faces
on the news-dots sober Committee Report
Concludes Conspiracy Killing
Kennedy & Martin Luther King
President & Peacemaker last
Decade departed
mysteriously gloomy miasma
mind of NY Times Vietnam
nuclear Warren Commission
exploded, lies & confusion
popping firecrackers Razz-ma-Tazz
in mylar hats under klieg lights
dancing to Guy Lombardo
Hitchy Kitchy Koo in eyeglasses
& bowties
with tinkling Pianos, Trombones
& tubas above the round white
champagne tables
Old Folks smiling into camera one
last time
appreciating the Royal Canadian
Nostalgia
among sweepstake kitchen
sinks & refrigerators
advertised before the deodorized
stickup by Count Dracula
with popping eyeballs.
How enthusiastic the soap ads
while masses honk paper
horns
between December’s canyon’d building
walls straight-sided up
thru red misted sky
above Gotham
Broadway Oomp-pa-pa-ing its
regards to Heaven the
umpteenth time,
tin Trumpets waiting to
announce the year’s
midnight,
Big teeth having a good time,
Puerto Ricans smiling
under 44th Street marquees
greeting the camera’s
million-eyed blank
Hope the itching’s gone—
Live from New York! thousands
scream delight
roaring the clock along simultaneous
congratulations Network Chairman
Wm. S. Paley—
Forgiveness! Time! the ball’s
falling down, drums
roll loud
across America’s speaker
systems to
Balloons! Happy New Year!
Trumpets & Bubbles wave
thru the brain!
Raise yr hat & shake yr bracelet
Telephone Edie! Blow yr Trumpet
Ganymede with a mustache
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