Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the shadows of the ancients
are roaming through the gigantic open air cave
my dreams have roamed there too
I'm still walking through North Beach
late in the Frisco night, poems still going through
my head, from the reading I was at minutes before
or was in days before, I know I was there
I saw Bobby Kaufman get up and recite some
or did I see his tiger ghost, I'm sure I was there
but I must have been so drunk on red wine
that it seems like a strange fragment of some
memory, that I just can't grasp, can't wrap
myself around, on North Beach nights like those
the streets are lines on poems that go up and down
hills that reach to the hand full of stars tossed
into the inky dark, by some poet of creation

now you got the JUICE RR! keep on

... ya bloody ol' cloud merchant you ...

I was just a crazy half beatnik half hippie cat, with maybe a little more beatnik.I looked like a hippie, but I was more into Beat. A lot of the poets that I liked did not look like either.The ones on the street looked scroungy, you could get away with that. Or I did.

in the "open air cave" of chasing imaginary dragons......fire-roasted breath of old poems, like branding irons on neurons.....but alas,......it's all a blur now