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

DAVID COPE

Everyone gone

silent room, at last––everyone gone racing across

the city, everyone stirring

soup, making lists, dreaming tomorrows, everyone

lost on the highway between

this & that, firelights about them unseen, dancing

around their steaming heads,

singing wild music none may hear––everyone

howling in their fleshy packing,

bones clattering among networks of sparks,

plumbing full of blood pumping

ever fast in the secret daydream, cocks & cunts

in cotton bags steaming

secretly, eyes on hips & eyes & lips––everyone

still in the starslung night

among branches reaching nowhere, breath

rising into still air where

clouds ring down ancient rain on roots & stems

& rootless woman & man alike.