ALLEN GINSBERG

 

In the ultimate tribute to a great poet,

I am going to make it with Allen Ginsberg,

he will be the first man I have ever diddled,

so don't be surprised if nobody comes.

 

This bang ensures my passage not only

into the venue of Allen's cosmic love,

but also into leftist journals and gay porn mags.

Margins across America bend and I hop across,

 

Hellman's in hand, since a large straight white male

normally gets it on with the following ingredients only:

soybean oil, whole eggs, vinegar, water, egg yolks,

salt, sugar, lemon Juice, natural flavors,

 

and calcium disodium to protect flavors that tend

to merge if left alone to simmer together in the pot,

the spices getting it on with juices and the oils

helping everybody flop, even the eggs.

 

Allen is probably humping Jerry Garcia

right now in the vast Buddhist nil,

worlds colliding and not just metaphorically,

Jerry wanting to dick and boink, to scrog and strap and Ball,

 

and Allen mounting, riding, humping, creaming,

getting off and making the scene,

but I'm not jealous, I have grown large‑hearted

in your death, Allen, like the simpering nephew.

 

Allen, my Allen, welcome to my authentic ritual

of universal confluence, my merging of all disjointed

parts of a universe touched by your love.

Sober as sand, I meditate toward the whole of things

 

I can't seem to see, beyond my piece of the puzzle.

Talk about a plot, my father worked for the CIA,

so you can imagine how paranoid I am, who

practiced steaming open envelopes with him, above

 

a shrieking kettle. He was looking for answers, too,

but other people's answers. I won't condemn him.

He died unable to catch his breath,

not even cool enough to take the joint I held out to him.

 

Allen, I pray wherever you are

you're getting it on with the best of them,

giving Dante what‑for, jumping Marvell's bones,

lally‑gagging and getting some, because

 

This ain't the song

This ain't the song that would do you wrong