Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen - Страница 22

     stiff-armed down at his side,

          effeminate:—he sees the cop—

they rush together—they’re embracing

     like long lost brothers—

          fatnose forgotten.

Delicate chords

     from the negro guitarino

          —singers at El Rancho Grande,

drunken burlesque

     screams of agony,

          VIVA JALISCO!

I eat a catfish sandwich

     with onions and red sauce

          20?.

II

A truly romantic spot,

     more guitars, Columbus Square

          across from Columbus Cathedral

—I’m in the Paris Restaurant

     adjacent, best in town,

          Cuba Libres 30?—

weatherbeaten tropical antiquity,

     as if rock decayed,

          unlike the pure

Chinese drummers of black stone

     whose polished harmony can still be heard

          (Procession of Musicians) at the Freer,

this with its blunt cornucopias and horns

     of conquest made of stone—

          a great dumb rotting church.

Night, lights from windows,

     high stone balconies

          on the antique square,

green rooms

     paled by fluorescent houselighting,

          a modern convenience.

I feel rotten.

     I would sit down with my servants and be dumb.

          I spent too much money.

White electricity

     in the gaslamp fixtures of the alley.

          Bullet holes and nails in the stone wall.

The worried headwaiter

     standing amid the potted palms in cans

          in the fifteen-foot wooden door looking at me.

Mariachi harmonica artists inside

     getting around to Banjo on My Knee yet.

          They dress in wornout sharpie clothes.

Ancient streetlights down the narrow Calle I face,

     the arch, the square,

          palms, drunkenness, solitude;

voices across the street,

     baby wail, girl’s squeak,

          waiters nudging each other,

grumble and cackle of young boys’ laughter

     in streetcorner waits,

          perro barking off-stage,

baby strangling again,

     banjo and harmonica,

          auto rattle and a cool breeze—

Sudden paranoid notion the waiters are watching me:

     Well they might,

          four gathered in the doorway

and I alone at a table

     on the patio in the dark

          observing the square, drunk.

25? for them

     and I asked for “Jalisco”—

          at the end of the song

oxcart rolls by

     obtruding its wheels

          o’er the music o’ the night.

Christmas 1953

Green Valentine Blues

Green Valentine Blues

I went in the forest to look for a sign

Fortune to tell and thought to refine;

My green valentine, my green valentine,

What do I know of my green valentine?

I found a strange wild leaf on a vine

Shaped like a heart and as green as was mine,

My green valentine, my green valentine,

How did I use my green valentine?

Bodies I’ve known and visions I’ve seen,

Leaves that I gathered as I gather this green

Valentine, valentine, valentine, valentine;

Thus did I use my green valentine.

Madhouse and jailhouses where I shined

Empty apartment beds where I pined,

O desolate rooms! My green valentine,

Where is the heart in which you were outlined?

Souls and nights and dollars and wine,

Old love and remembrance—I resign

All cities, all jazz, all echoes of Time,

But what shall I do with my green valentine?

Much have I seen, and much am I blind,

But none other than I has a leaf of this kind.

Where shall I send you, to what knowing mind,

My green valentine, my green valentine?

Yesterday’s love, tomorrow’s more fine?

All tonight’s sadness in your design.

What does this mean, my green valentine?

Regret, O regret, my green valentine.

Chiapas, 1954

Siesta in Xbalba

AND

Return to the States

For Karena Shields

I

Late sun opening the book,

          blank page like light,