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






this isn’t a nightmare


rolling dice in great casinos

they’re worried about their jobs

exported to a country that

pays slave wages to its workers


illegal aliens marching in DC

wave the Mexican flag

to honor the land of their birth

spending their dollars


on skid row tenements

with jacked up rents the homeless

can’t afford    in secret subway

tunnelsneath New York


its drugged out residents

are writing a Constitution to

free themselves from the rule

of money bags with huge bellies


who returning home

in horse drawn carriages

from Tavern on the Green

fondle their fatness


their earnings

from their skid row holdings

buys them a ticket out of town


they wonder about how their race horse

did at Monmouth

as to whether he won     placed

or showed


a vacation in Acapulco

ends any worry they have

and raises the price

of a can of Spam

for the old man shining shoes


on the corner of Fifth and Heaven

who walks home to Spanish Harlem

at the end of the day


this isn’t a nightmare

this is Saturday night at six

when someone wanting dinner

pillages a garbage can


licking yellow slop from his fingers

in an effort to savor

its putrid taste






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