H e a r t   S o n s   &   H e a r t   D a u g h t e r s   of   A l l e n   G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m   H e a l t h   S p a :   R e p o r t   2 0 1 4 :   A r c h i v e s   E d i t i o n








Above the pond the colour of mud, the sun

Spits bits of gold through ruptured clouds,

And here we are at the end of all words

After the bound blood released what was you

Spiriting it into gleanings.


You could have died inside of me when

I was daydreaming about building the first

Sandcastle together at the Sleeping Bear Dunes


(But now I think that was a bad omen for there also,

The legend says, the two young bears

Could not cross the water and died

Before the mother fell asleep on the shore

With her back to the sun, looking at two islands.)


Or maybe you stopped living when I thought

You were building yourself heart walls

As I was moving gingerly around the house

Smiling at how you brought all the words into me:


Cantare, iubirea, family, nastere


Now the house is orderly, the bruises in my arms

And hands are turning yellowish from blue,

We have come to the end of grief, children.


Whatever you see now is not this world

And I will never see your faces: in my one dream

You were beautiful.



[Originally published in NHS 2006, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs06/Bugen.htm.]