My renegade pal Sooby (Sohaib) Ahmed is a fine poet in the “romantic” tradition (think Shelley, Keats et al) and often sends along his work for my edification. This one came along just before Ichiro came along so sharing here for the record.
Though S. and i enjoyed wild adventures together in NYC/state, Providence and other environs, our most ridiculous times came the summer 1991 with dozens of Grateful Dead (and related) shows, music festivals, psychedelic parks, and the infamous Taos hi-jack incident.
Despite all of these hi-jinks, i don’t have a handy snapshot of him so instead a flyleaf of a book i mailed to him from Sri Lanka included as inadequate visual addition.
I wish there were that us There were, there were Like we only did make Like snowflake make So too could and have when It snow so like that, And it was, it has So its, such as, only such as In that way, I’d had Only and as we melt I’ll ask, I wish And, a way Its all the less cold then there Would be getting a wish Being it so selfish The snowflake we chance can be Should I but be so Brave and have Wouldn’t suiting our imagination Say can us both but be Suited also, for it, I wish, its a wish for yourself So its, such as, only such Only and as we melt I’ll ask, I wish And a way Of it, if it, That too heartfelt a what, What a heart-felt for always.
Full of mis-spoken words, forgotten names and other sloppiness comes annotated thoughts (squished through time and space) for shut-ins, drifters and sufferers amidst erstwhile festive melancholy times of disruption and tumult, including poems – read alongside mosquito and rooster sounds – by:
riffs about John Lennon and Ono Yoko and Marshall McLuhan
musical riffs by Chet Baker Quartet with Russ Freeman
Plus name checks for Neal Cassady, Jello Biafra, Dave Madden, Allen Ginsberg’s holy cock, dine and dash, Ken Kesey, Gary Snyder, Alan Watts, Beat Museum, City Lights, Grateful Dead, Beat Museum, City Lights Bookstore, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Jim Robson and more… (note to self: add links).
First reflecting on Funiculars, Dave then reads works by poet friends from far-flung points including: Sohaib Ahmed recounting escaped love and lights, Adam Burningham examining towns atop streams, Amber Case on a languid roadtrip, and Robert Scales appreciating a sunrise and oblivion – plus music by guitarist Matt Harding and a rainstorm, crickets and cicadas from a porch.
From a snowy Gulf island, Uncle Weed recounts an incident from a lost summer involving a hi-jacked VW bus and a surreal evening of trout, tribal chants, involuntary confinement, gun shots, and rabbit stew.