Allen Ginsberg saved me
That evening at Kentucky
Fried chicken…
Hiding himself inside
an old tattered copy between
street wise fries and hot chicken wings
Opening the forgotten copy…this thing
howled at me ….
Ginsberg cried:
the eat out crowd blinking, chewing
looking...
“is this why we are living, consuming
heartaches…soothing headaches and
eating ….eating …eating cholesterol
monkey death….”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem