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.]