My Sad Self By Allen Ginsberg

My Sad Self By Allen Ginsberg To Frank O’Hara Sometimes when my eyes are red I go up on top of the RCA Building and gaze at my world, Manhattan— my buildings, streets I’ve done feats in, lofts, beds, coldwater flats —on Fifth Ave below which I also bear in mind, its ant cars, little […]

The Blue Angel By Allen Ginsberg

The Blue Angel By Allen Ginsberg Marlene Dietrich is singing a lament for mechanical love. She leans against a mortarboard tree on a plateau by the seashore. She’s a life-sized toy, the doll of eternity; her hair is shaped like an abstract hat made out of white steel. Her face is powdered, whitewashed and immobile […]

A Supermarket In California By Allen Ginsberg

A Supermarket In California By Allen Ginsberg    What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self- conscious looking at the full moon.    In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your […]

Howl By Allen Ginsberg

Howl By Allen Ginsberg I I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat […]

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