Howl of Myself
xxxxxby Walt Ginsberg
I celebrate myself, destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
And what I assume you shall assume, looking for an angry fix
For every atom belonging to angelheaded hipsters burning for
the ancient heavenly connection belongs to you,
I loafe and invite my soul to the starry dynamo in the
machinery of night,
I lean and loafe at my ease, hollow-eyed and high,
My tongue, every atom of my blood, contemplating jazz,
Born here of parents born here from parents who bared their brains to
heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on
tenement roofs illuminated,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, eyes hallucinating
Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy,
Hoping to cease publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull
not till death,
Creeds and schools in abeyance, cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,
Retiring back a while got busted in their pubic beards returning through
Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
I harbor dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares,
Alcohol and cock and endless balls.
Nature without check with original energy.
[This message has been edited by Michael Cantor (edited January 07, 2005).]
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