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Грегори Корсо/ Gregory Nunzio Corso
| Birthplace Revisited I stand in the dark light in the dark street and look up at my window, I was born there. The lights are on; other people are moving about. I am with raincoat; cigarette in mouth, hat over eye, hand on gat. I cross the street and enter the building. The garbage cans haven't stopped smelling. I walk up the first flight; Dirty Ears aims a knife at me… I pump him full of lost watches. Destiny They deliver the edicts of God without delay And are exempt from apprehension from detention And with their God-given Petasus, Caduceus, and Talaria ferry like bolts of lightning unhindered between the tribunals of Space & Time The Messenger-Spirit in human flesh is assigned a dependable, self-reliant, versatile, thoroughly poet existence upon its sojourn in life It does not knock or ring the bell or telephone When the Messenger-Spirit comes to your door though locked It'll enter like an electric midwife and deliver the message There is no tell throughout the ages that a Messenger-Spirit ever stumbled into darkness | |
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