The Last American Poet

The Last American Poet was a Damned Yankee,

 who grew up speaking French.

A man of letters, he wrote a million words,

 before Lucian introduced him to Bill Burroughs.

He loved to write on rolls of tele-type paper.

He worked in the Merchant Marines with Bob Kaufman,

they moved to Frisco together.

Snyder did Fire watch in the Pacific Northwest and had Jack give it a try.

Kesey’s bus driver got him (Further) a job working on the railroads.

Fame’s cauldron worked a strange spell on those two,

Transformed into each other’s,

Doppelgangers.

The Catholic Mama’s boy became a dandy cynic.

The Olympic Cocksman became pensive and introverted.

Both died sick, alcoholics and near deadbeats.

A school in Colorado was partially named after him, at least when Ginsberg died it was.

Alan worked there so many years, room, board and as much fringe as he could get.

Last time the owner of the bus came on Campus, a coup went down.

The Holy Beat Pantheon was denounced as drunken patriarchs.

The All-American wrestler was dumbstruck, off-balance, pinned down by the Furies.

The old campaigner was not welcome at the hearth.

Cold ears and lips are still the bane of poets.

Over the horizon our Captains have sailed,

Too late to seek the wax and binds,

so close the Sirens rock.

R.A.Hull.

 8/2004-7/2012

B-ham +