Ginsberg

I never met you
but I read you

you never met me
but you inspired me

your poetry was instruction
sinking in from miles away
such eloquent seduction
in how to make your way
with words, you mesmerised

my discovery of your work
is indicative of my fate
an encounter on the radio
when I’d walked past you
for year upon year
always blind to your existence

you won’t get the Nixon treatment
good people don’t need resurrection
I don’t think you’d feel resentment
to be far apart from such pollution
we live, we love, we suffer, we write

some kind of crazy impulse
connects us silly scribes
noting our often dismal lines
the effluent of our minds,
thrown like bottles
Molotovs against apathy
graffiti on the establishment walls

be realistic, demand the impossible!