HOWL at Kip’s Bay

Ginsberg’s words soothe…..outrage……condemn…..and celebrate…..then there is this, Yo, young black chick smakin’ on her cell at the Kip’s Bay Library, I done told that motherfucker who he be dealin’ with and I’m not playin’ with that bitch Jermaine in any way shape or form cause I knows what be the truth….

Shhhhh…..Please…..please….

And then I told Maurice that I wasn’t gonna play that type of shit no more while I sit at Mainchance every motherfuckin’ day waitin’ on some raggedy ass bitch to get me my motherfuckin housing and shit and whatnot…..

Ms…….please…..would you please……

Hold on, a turn of the head in my direction with dreadlocks throwing backwards and forwards as she addressed the audience, Bitch….who you be talkin’ to……aint nobody talkin’ to you bitch…..keep lookin’ at my black ass bitch and I’ll show you what I’m talkin’ ’bout motherfucker….Shhhh your damn self….Tell me what to do….

In search of solace……maybe chants from ancient pasts……find new ground…..

Why are you staring at me…..? the old queen demanded a reply as I tried to settle…..I thought you were staring at me….

No, a hand wave, a Joan Crawford glare, You caught my eye and continued staring at me, loudly proclaiming, proudly handing down a verdict, No more…..do not say another word, the queen applied Chapstick, lips were licked; Howl, Howl, Howl…..

January in NYC and there is no snow……Libraries are no longer quiet places……and gay men want marriage and kids instead of the lush life of jazz and cocktails…….Howl Allen……Howl…..


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