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








A December day wavering between sun-brilliance

and snow, the river rippling like an alabaster jar

filled with ever-changing skittish jewels—

a decayed church with the roof and walls fallen in,

a rough stone door of cold smoky shadows

descending into where the dead are buried,

the cool silvery atmosphere stone-colored, flinty,

austere, grey as this constant seeking after difficulty.



[From the author’s Washington D.C. Notebook, originally published in NHS 2006,http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs06/Roark.htm.]