Apres Nous, Le Chaos
(to Lawrence Ferlinghetti)
In
the
bookstore
the voice slowly uncurls some pages of life, revealing Allen's
loss:
"There is a HUGE HOLE in the sky" -
That same voice is painting vividly that very hole to the marrow.
The poet never dies,
nor does his
voice.
Wasn't it that very voice you were looking for
walking amidst the tombs in Rome? Keats' very voice,
Shelley's very voice, Allen's very voice reverberating
their hues upon the world's black canvas -
We all are a hole on the earth waiting for the
how of the poet, that
deep barbaric YAWP to tear asunder the pages
of our life, to color meaning for us -
Now only a message rests here,
the one the poet said:
- "After
us
only
Chaos" -
(written after Ferlinghetti’s reading in Rome a few months after Ginsberg’s death in 1997)
WEBERLAND
(To Gregory Corso)
The cobbled stones echo with your
steps. The air resounds with your
whistling. Poetic marksman, you
hum Der Freischütz to yourself
and raise the glass of wine in the
darkest alley of Trastevere with
the deft gesture of an orchestra
leader in his Roman
Weberland.
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