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






Zero Hour


This morning is slowly moving away from

the moment which is hard to collect my being in

A series of disappointments led to this day

if looked at would bring me cascading back

to a thick room I used to live in without hands

with relatives and friends none of whom

would take out the garbage

making the urge to travel a kind of grace

in an open place to take off the shirt

to rearrange my looks without anyone noticing

and be healed in the confidence of velvet pockets

The heart wants to go back it

always wants to go back

following the digressions of last night's wine

but thankfully hands are made in front

of the body naturally to snatch from the air

a hat of sky with the faith to wear it



[Originally published in NHS 2008 http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs08/Cliff_Fyman.htm.]