| |
With a love a madness for Shelley
Chatterton Rimbaud
and the needy-yap of my youth
has gone from ear to ear:
I HATE OLD POETMEN!
Especially old poetmen who retract
who consult other old poetmen
who speak their youth in whispers,
saying:--I did those then
but that was then
that was then--
O I would quiet old men
say to them:--I am your friend
what you once were, thru me
you'll be again--
Then at night in the confidence of their homes
rip out their apology-tongues
and steal their poems.
Gregory Corso
Read poems about / on: hate, friend, night, love, poem
|
|
User Rating: |
|
7.4
/10
(14 votes) |
|
|
|
Free
Poetry E-Book:
E-mail this poem to e friend