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The How[l] of Summer.

September 14, 2010 \am\30 1:30 am

Friends, it’s been a while. I haven’t seen you all summer. I hope you’ve been well. So this is probably longer than it should be, or maybe it’s just the right length. Perhaps it will seem a bit self indulgent too. As I am want to do from time to time, I begin with a lyrical essay; part travelogue, part what-to-do-alogue. After that a link to some photos by Allen Ginsberg.

Instructions for a Summer

First, travel by train from Chicago to Washington, DC.

Then chop garlic and be oppressed by the heat.

Follow that by writing derivative doggerel

But only after rereading On the Level Everyday.

Once done, forget the difference

Between Sunday and Monday.

While pretending to be a spy,

Have an epiphany about what green really smells like.

Crave cigarettes

Before missing “the” Pavement in Chicago.

Try to be astonished less

By the Library of Congress.

Scour used bookstores for nostalgia and Brits.

Debate the best rock’n’roll wailers in the back of a cab.

While folding laundry, imagine running through the streets

a la Judd Nelson

In the Breakfast Club:

“I want to be an Airborne Ranger, I want to live a life of danger.”

On Thursday, buy bikini briefs by mistake,

On Friday, wear them on purpose.

When you see a rat, try not to think about politicians.

Instead, be awed by the free-slam-stylings of E the Poet Emcee,

And pretend to be a spy, again.

Surrounded by fireworks, get blottoed drinking sangria on rooftops.

Wake up present.

Feel displaced.

But feel more at home.

Sit injun-style until your legs go numb.

Then chase after them in frontier dreams of black-and-white Westerns.

When you see a politician, try not to think about rats.

Once you’ve established yourself as politically incorrect,

Retrace other inadequacies of the past.

While forgetting to take pills

Listen to sirens and stars, crickets and cars

And learn the etymology of words; “sham” and “faggot.”

In the morning make big decisions and coffee.

When the temperature exceeds your own

Revise your resume to be a busboy or a poet.

On rainy days collect unemployment monies from Illinois.

When you take the train to Trenton, read Newsweek, and get picked up

In a black Town Car.

When the full moon is colored like a grapefruit

It’s time for the Skinny Bitch Jesus Meeting.

In the window at the Black Squirrel, drink Absinthe and then go eat chicken shawarma Across the street..

Oh but don’t Eee.

In July, buy pickles and remember to floss your teeth.

Wake up again,

And shave clean for the first time in 2 years.

Look both ways before crossing the street

On your way to see Anne Waldman read “Howl” in honor of Allen Ginsberg’s

Photo exhibit at the National Gallery of Art.

Wait 3 weeks,

Then go see Allen Ginsberg’s photo exhibit at the National Gallery of Art.

Finally, detest shoddy sentiment.

Once you become a recluse

In the air-conditioned apartment

Wreck yourself loosely and listen to Bob Dylan,

In the evening, Atmosphere and infinite jest.

Cook culinary delights.

Drink with the headless food-fighting ghost of Alexandria.

Cheer on the Nationals against the D-bags from Arizona.

Openly despise Walnuts.

Blow the cover on all of your ruts in disguise.

Feel the grumble of Reality Hunger

Then enigmatically announce, “Living is its own salvation.”

Laugh like a silent movie,

But mostly, fall in love

For forever.

And now for some of the photos from the National Gallery’s Ginsberg Photo exhibit…

Bill Burroughs

Allen and Anne

Neal Cassidy

(left to right) Jack Kerouac, Neal Cassidy, Allen Ginsberg, _________, Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Allen and Gregory Corso.

One Comment
  1. Nagette permalink
    September 14, 2010 \am\30 11:54 am 11:54 am

    You are simply amazing. All of you, and your strange powers.

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