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
KATIE YATES
into emptiness
saw all of a
sudden that the colors were the same, the same grey granite, the same orange
and green,
lined up
differently, historically not-the-same, but could be Buffalo, or Minneapolis or
Madagascar,
Italy, railroad
tracks, who is looking through the garbage, selling balloons, ice cream, cars,
even my
VW Fox is here,
24 hours in the air later, running along 19th century streets, built by slaves,
how else,
and the songs, and
the colors, the navy blues, the mangoes, the eggs and the bread, stacking up,
making it make sense,
it drifts away
[Originally
published in NHS 2005, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs05/katie_yates.html.]