Whitney Jones Olson
On Ginsberg's America,6th Part - Poem by Whitney Jones Olson
Shelter me free in my aberrations, America.
Let me consume in the fleshes of your brilliant tortured boys;
Let me revel in the pirouettes of your naïve moonlit girls;
Indulge me these, America.
In churches, synagogues, mosques, temples,
Nameless eclipsed fields,
Holy refuges of the upstanding,
On my laurels, tense, above,
Those graves of stoics we…have loved.
In buses, haylofts, boxcars, truck beds,
Novel roadside diversions,
Holy refuges of the pariah,
On my knees sobbing, ecstatic, with,
The images of memories we…have known.
Preserve me these, America.
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