at Frank O'Hara's coffin
at the bottom of the grave.
"Damn,"he whispered.
"Damn,damn."
*
"A lovely, sentimental story," Ginsberg told me.
"But not true. Frank died in July. Not much snow.
Who told you this?"
"Armand Schwerner, I think."
"Well, Schwerner wasn't there."
*
In time,
I imagine Ginsberg grave.
Nothing sentimental about it:
It's a warm day, early April,
the grave is opened,
a snowball
balanced
on its edge.
from FORTY-NINE GUARANTEED WAYS TO ESCAPE DEATH
日本語で読む Copyright ⓒ2007 by Sandy McIntosh/ photo by St Marks Poet Memorials / B.D.'s world
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