Day: November 20, 2021

photo: Debbie Meagain

There was a back door
on the back ally
green and ragged
worn as the souls inside

locked
but they left the key

those invited
knew where it was

those that didn’t
weren’t invited
take your trade
to the front
please

this door opened on the inner sanctum
of City Lights — San Francisco

a place of hard truth
a place of tough love
a place of sweet miracles
a place of fascinating minds

the ever-pulsing artery
feeding the beating heart
of the beat generation

come with me
and you will see
a most surreal
reality

but know

enter that door
and you’re changed

forevermore…

Oh
I was there

you and Jack
suckling life’s sweet underbelly
in the quaking
nocturnal
neon zoo

me
in my plastic-handled-Roy-Rogers-two-gun glory
running fast as I could
to catch the bad guys

racing
to outdistance the abandonment
the alienation
that already knew me
by my first name

altogether too damned familiar

Oh
yes
I was there

separated only by time
the chronological happenstance
of conception

you
Jack
and Neal

groin deep
in human wallow

swilling full
the brain-drug
flesh festival

spewing forth
to fill in latter years
my fertile ears
with the siren song
of sacred dissatisfaction

your fingers burned
from dancing with the fire-whores
of truth
angst
and indignation

me
swollen
with the sting of banishment

taunted

the outcast bastard
unaccepted by my peers

frightened child
fleeing to a world within

yet vibrating
with virgin vision
naive imagination
foolhardy faith

that somewhere
someday
somehow
something
must be better

Oh
hell yes
I was there

screaming over that hallowed hill
of pubescent predilection

fast
and hard
as holy hell

cresting
and crashing in
just as night fell
on bohemia

the streets
now new ablaze
in a black-light
strobe-light
tie-dyed light-show

I was on the road
I was on the bus
I was on my way

howling mad
and mind-expanded

I came
in a rolling demon’s fire
lighting the night

dancing
with every devil
I could find

ranting
and raving
and blazing

a combusting
carnal fireball

roaring

hormoned-hungry
for all of life’s deliciousness

ferocious appetite

lusting
and longing to consume
every forbidden morsel
and crumb

to gorge the smorgasborgadelic mindfeast
succulently set
by Neal
Jack
you
Tim
Ken
and guitar Bobby

but you were
so cool
so coooooll

man
I was there
…almost…

thundering in your shadows
warmed by the afterglow
of your light

though just beyond

though just
too late

each light
burned so brightly

then each burned out
all flames are gone

I will remember – Allen
all you crazy
blessed bastards

I will remember

you marvelous
magic
maniacs

madder men than you
the world will not soon see

but now
night has fallen
on bohemia

you’ve departed

now

there’s only
me
and your specters
in my conjured memories

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: Sunday Muse

Poetry at: Poets & Storytellers