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these poems feel too spacious for me, too much like the pang of hunger just under the solarplexus. lots of fine bones but no meat. ok I really am hungry, but that just defends the metaphors not the opinion. maybe I'll have him in a course. in fact I almost certanly might KS On 02/11/2007, Jon Corelis <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > I Am 25 > > With a love a madness for Shelley > Chatterton Rimbaud > and the needy-yap of my youth > has gone from ear to ear: > I HATE OLD POETMEN! > Especially old poetmen who retract > who consult other old poetmen > who speak their youth in whispers, > saying:--I did those then > but that was then > that was then-- > O I would quiet old men > say to them:--I am your friend > what you once were, thru me > you'll be again-- > Then at night in the confidence of their homes > rip out their apology-tongues > and steal their poems. > > Gregory Corso > > > > I Held A Shelley Manuscript > > My hands did numb to beauty > as they reached into Death and tightened! > > O sovereign was my touch > upon the tan-inks's fragile page! > > Quickly, my eyes moved quickly, > sought for smell for dust for lace > for dry hair! > > I would have taken the page > breathing in the crime! > For no evidence have I wrung from dreams-- > yet what triumph is there in private credence? > > Often, in some steep ancestral book, > when I find myself entangled with leopard-apples > and torched-skin mushrooms, > my cypressean skein outreaches the recorded age > and I, as though tipping a pitcher of milk, > pour secrecy upon the dying page. > > > Gregory Corso > > -- > =================================== > > Jon Corelis www.geocities.com/joncpoetics/ > > =================================== >