The Beat Voice

He started in an infirm tone
as if the poem were escaping
through his clenched behind,
images and meaning forcing
their way out, evoking a limp
echo from his moist mouth.

It had to be some elder enthusiast
reading a favorite work,
I told myself, some bent emeritus
who knew the words by heart
but had long forgotten
the savagery of the rhythm.

I turned it off after a few seconds
embarrassed that something
I loved had been soiled
so weakly, as if my wife’s legs
had been snuffled by an
incontinent mutt.

I was experiencing literal pain,
reminding me of the time
I was getting sick and I’d eaten
jambalaya, the favorite dish
of my youth, pushed the bowl
away and never ate it again.

but not you, Allen Ginsberg,
crazy druggy hippy dyke
I’ll force you down my throat
and through my eyes
until I’m battered, bleeding,
naked, anxious for another go.

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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