Corso in my veins cruising cursing all the homo sapiens
by jotadavida
Posted to Corso Tribute on 2001-06-02 16:24:00
May 20, 2001
Scared shitless screaming I blazed home to my flaming suburban gassy dreams glory fame
For my weedless lawn and taunts and torts from my neighbors rising up to greet me
Fawning fearful falling stumbling in my bermuda shorts
I set the torch myself
On fire at forty I ran I ran I fucking ran all the way home
From a madman who made me guffaw out loud right there in the jamocha bookstore
Standing next to the diet books and dirty magazines
I shook I shook thrilled by this gum snapping wisecracking moppy devil bastard
Him and his tales of Kerouacky going poof! into the fatted air
Cracking up I cackled they tried to kick me out the clerks
I cheated threw down the book ran out the door sailed right past the sitting clerk staggered there on the curb
Twirling dead black roots of blonded hair snarling at me as I ran past
First
I knew to read one more page would mean that I would write no more but roar from a throated voice not mine own
Second
I vowed and in my swearing swore to look up this angel commie barking madman and upon finding him fall down in love and lay my head upon his lap and hand him twenty dollars
Third
I’d crouch there waiting for every crack and every crumb a gift of gravity from his mouth I’d catch them all and chew them up and inside out for all my days of sustenance
Stop
Smell posies
Put down the junk of fame
Lay down
Hallucinate
You are someone else
A friend in name
Stuck in time and in doom
He came in again
Last night in the rain
His hair gone he bemoaned a hirsute fate of a balding pate
Forget about girls he cried, start smoking pipes
And I shrieked!
Lying across a mattress on the floor at dawn
Legs dangling off dumbstruck and in love
Three rosy angels teasing him
life death life
never catches up
When he said “I was a poet before the poems came”
I shot straight up
The cracks in my heart many and never the same
Shit
This guy he’s too much
And what about all those others
Drowning I looked up at all those gelded shelves
Shipwrecked hosts all lined up for me
And I couldn’t even save one soul
Gregory Corso cursing in my veins
get thee the fuck out of my brain
I tossed my lunch lurching in the library
I bolted wretching running
Man, I just had to go
When I came home I turned on the oracle
Flashing beacons striped my face
The spiders told me of his fate
Dead at seventy-one, four months past
Christ, I was too late
His ashes shipped to Italy
In the poet’s corner
You will find him there
right next to Shelly