Ira Cohen Poems

Imagine Jean Cocteau in the lobby
holding a torch
Imagine a trained dog act,
...

A star of blood you fell
from the point of the hypodermic
singing of fabulous beasts &
spitting out the sex of vowels
...

Let's take a silver train underground
to the back streets of Atlantis
thru the corrugated iron roots &
...

And surely we will die without memory
coming to cold in the shadow of space
& if it isn't too late
...

Sunyata - Song to the Winter Sun

There was much wind
but I new not how to call it,
a roomful of strangers,
...

July 14, Breakfast w/myself at the Olympia Diner, 106th & B'way

Fell asleep around 4 AM
w/ the TV on
Van Heflin & Barbara Stanwyck
...