BY APRYL FOX
I AM ALLEN GINSBERG
Allen Ginsberg. I write madly. Passionately. I
am a poem like Allen Ginsberg. Not a poet, a
poem. Can I be as mad as he? If I quiet my mind.
a madman on the brink of madness. I like it. It tastes
fine, like chocolate cake. I'm hungry. Grab a Snicker's--
that's right, let your teeth rot. Everything rots. All is
is hell. Do you feel it, Allen? Your name starts
with "A." My name starts with "A." So does Abe Lincoln,
but he looked better in slacks than either of us, & all is
going to hell. My teeth hurt. I need to go to the dentist's,
but let me ramble on until my feet touch the ground again.
this is a poem, but don't let me
If I should be down instead of up,
let me reflect upon
If I am tall and
short and ugly--all at the same
time, of course--let me reflect in that
and discover its meaning.
How am I different from one or
the other? How am I tall, ugly,
Do you see my ugliness
within? Or is it the way my skin
looks in the moonlight, all pale in palor,
stuck to my
bones like glue?
do you want me to
be, my sweet,
my love? As beautiful
as a sunset or a rose? As tall and graceful
as a mountain?
Well, let's see. Even a mountain's
beauty took millions of years to
I have a few years left.
We are not star-crossed lovers;
our paths have crossed many times.
Outside, it is snowing.
is covering the leaves of the pine
The white bark is peeling.
I am peeling a potato with my knife in
A woodpecker on the patio ratatattats
on the wood. Later, I find the number, "8,"
burned in the wood on the back of the house,
and wonder if it is
some sort of sign from God.
I can only guess its meaning.
IN THE SNAIL'S HOUSE
There is a snail on the bike path
in front of us, moving in its slow,
carefree way as snails do.
goes, there are next door neighbors
because the snail carries its house on
looking for a new place to dwell in.
The shell is made of hard smoothness,
and the snail carries everything it owns on
its back: a four-poster bed,
the cordless phone,
an a signed autograph photo of W.H. Auden,
a dead poet who liked to write about