When I Knew Allen Ginsburg

you can return.
But only after a swift
trip through The Village.
Watching you sleep
falling into shadows
of the son
who won't be a daddy.
You had another reward
covering you.
Quoting all those friends
with snowballs
of grammar like Rimbaud,
we lost you early.
Composing in subways
you'll never straighten out
in the underground:
the doors won't be bolted
you're innocent beyond words
but no one believes us.

-- B.Z. Niditch