Reality Sandwiches by Allen Ginsberg

Author:Allen Ginsberg [Ginsberg, Allen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Thomas C. Breuer
Published: 2009-08-17T05:00:00+00:00

1956

SCRIBBLE

Rexroth's face reflecting human tired bliss

White haired, wing browed gas mustache,

flowers jet out of

his sad head,

listening to Edith Piaf street song as she walks the universe

with all life gone

and cities disappeared

only the God of Love

left smiling.

AFTERNOON SEATTLE

Busride along waterfront down Yessler under street bridge to the old red Wobbly Hall --

One Big Union, posters of the Great Mandala of Labor, bleareyed dusty cardplayers dreaming behind the counter . . . 'but these young fellers can't see ahead and we nothing to offer' --

After Snyder his little red beard and bristling Buddha mind I weeping crossed Skid Road to 10c. beer.

Labyrinth wood stairways and Greek movies under Farmers Market second hand city, Indian smoked salmon old overcoats and dry red shoes,

Green Parrot Theater, Maytime, and down to the harborside the ships, walked on Alaska silent together -- ferryboat coming faraway in mist from Bremerton Island dreamlike small on the waters of Holland to me

-- and entered my head the seagull, a shriek, sentinels standing over rusty harbor iron clockwork, rocks dripping under rotten wharves slime on the walls --

the seagull's small cry -- inhuman not of the city, lone sentinels of God, animal birds among us indifferent, their bleak lone cries representing our souls.

A rowboat docked and chained floating in the tide by a wharf. Basho's frog. Someone left it there, it drifts.

Sailor's curio shop hung with shells and skulls a whalebone mask, Indian seas. The cities rot from oldest parts. Little red mummy from Idaho Frank H. Little your big hat high cheekbones crosseyes and song.

The cities rot from the center, the suburbs fall apart a slow apocalypse of rot the spectral trolleys fade

the cities rot the fire escapes hang and rust the brick turns

black dust falls uncollected garbage heaps the wall

the birds invade with their cries the skid row alley creeps

downtown the ancient jailhouse groans bums snore under the

pavement a dark Turkish bath the cornice gapes at midnight

Seattle! -- department stores full of fur coats and camping

equipment, mad noontime businessmen in gabardine coats talk-

ing on streetcorners to keep up the structure, I float past, birds

cry,

Salvation Army offers soup on rotting block, six thousand

beggars groan at a meal of hopeful beans.

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