I met the great poet and had him autograph a book to my father.

You write such tender words
To my father,Mr. Ginsburg

I told you it was for him
Simple child of the college that I was
Sitting aghast at your drums

Beat, Beat, Beat
You great beat poet
Of my generation
But you now tell me

All poetry is family business

Scrambling under your LSD beard
I was amassed in it and your eyes
So close to you
Homosexual master and dream lift

You smile and remember me
From the dead
From the immortality of your words
Papa singing on

You signed that book because you loved your father
My father was so close to us then
In that moment

Scribble Scribble

Young poet unawakend
I'm howl too
Until no one listens and
You cry for family

Howl Howl

No one can make me so lonely as you
Mr. Ginsberg lover
Allen child of motorcycles
Carrying beyond old
Burroughs
And that writer of the road

We wrote to our fathers
You Louis I Charles
Until we swept away a generation of
Our own blood

You started in 1944 and made
A deep impression
Banging on your drums
Untll 1977

When I met you
Face to heart place

Drum drum
Pound pound

You cracked open a phrase
To my dearest dad
Silently touching your own

I didn't know it then
But I still try
To write a single
Moment of your
Mystery