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July 27, 2007


Tags: Poems — 10:35 am Comments (2)

Yet I have slept with beauty
in my own weird way
and I have made a hungry scene or two
with beauty in my bed
and so spilled out another poem or two
and so spilled out another poem or two
upon the Bosch-like world.


It was like this when
we waltz into this place
a couple of Papish cats
is doing an Aztec two-step
And I says
Dad let’s cut
but then this dame
comes up behind me see
and says
You and me could really exist
Wow I says
Only the next day
she has bad teeth
and really hates

Hanging out at Caffe Trieste today and who’s sitting across from me but Lawrence Ferlinghetti.


  1. and so to prove the blog generation is valid you regurgitated a Ferlinghetti poem? Awesome

    Comment by david — September 13, 2009 @ 2:58 pm

  2. actually the post was about Ferlinghetti and seeing him at Caffe Trieste, not the other way around. The “blog generation” may have petered out due to the economy…and Twitter.

    Comment by rebron — September 13, 2009 @ 6:52 pm

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