Leaving Town with Allen Ginsberg
Allen Ginsberg, I met you
in a gas station bathroom somewhere in California
and I don't even drive or dream. You asked me for my number,
I asked you for a cigarette. It was evening in New York
where we were both dead, and America
was beautiful and bloody like a boy.
I don't smoke, I said,
but there's a war and there's my love too,
and no mirror in this bathroom
so, what next? When can I go into the supermarket
and buy what I need with my good looks?
Where can I find the best blue jeans to sell my book?
If we leave this place tonight
let's not leave loveless.
Let's dig a cemetery like a summer in our hands.
And all the people that will pass and bless our bodies—
let's take them with us Allen Ginsberg,
let's never let them sleep.