Allen Ginsberg and The Pittsburgh Night

23:59 - 8 April, 1994

---

This night, springtime and Friday. First out from the winter snows. Lively, frisky and sweet-smelling.

This night with Pittsburgh lights shining dotted and shimmering on the hillsides.

Allen Ginsberg comes to town.
He shines. He sings his poetry.
An old man - but young, young, young.
Young with wonder. Young with joy. Young with love for life.
Sixty-some years young and still shining.

Today, in Seattle, Kurt Cobain finishes. Finally. His blinding nuclear flash of life.

And tonight Allen Ginsberg dreams aloud his dead friends.

His dead, shining, fiery-meteor-life-friends.
His too-brief Jack Kerouac. His Neal Cassady.

Allen Ginsberg's candle still burns. Allen Ginsberg and his old man poetry.
Old-man-full-of-wonder-about-death. The next step.
Natural curiosity for a man of 69.

Allen Ginsberg plays Pittsburgh.

And Kurt Cobain reaches fission.

I just can't sleep.

Oh . . .
nevermind.

You can reach me by e-mail at: williamf@tomjoad.us

---

Text © 1994 Bill Frick (All Rights Reserved)

Back to Bill's World . . .

Really Deep Thoughts?