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Allen Ginsberg

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[This is a copyrighted book, thus it cannot be published on the whole. Only this single page of the book is available now.]

 

 

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III/
 Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you're madder than I am 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you must feel very strange 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you imitate the shade of my mother 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you've murdered your twelve secretaries 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you laugh at this invisible humor 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where we are great writers on the same dreadful 
 typewriter 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where your condition has become serious and 
 is reported on the radio 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where the faculties of the skull no longer admit 
 the worms of the senses 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you drink the tea of the breasts of the 
 spinsters of Utica 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the 
 harpies of the Bronx 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you scream in a straightjacket that you're 
 losing the game of the actual pingpong of the 
 abyss 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul 
 is innocent and immortal it should never die 
 ungodly in an armed madhouse 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where fifty more shocks will never return your 
 soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a 
 cross in the void 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you accuse your doctors of insanity and 
 plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against the 
 fascist national Golgotha 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where you will split the heavens of Long Island 
 and resurrect your living human Jesus from the 
 superhuman tomb 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where there are twenty-five-thousand mad com- 
 rades all together singing the final stanzas of the Internationale 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where we hug and kiss the United States under 
 our bedsheets the United States that coughs all 
 night and won't let us sleep 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 where we wake up electrified out of the coma 
 by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the 
 roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the 
 hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls col- 
 lapse O skinny legions run outside O starry 
 spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is 
 here O victory forget your underwear we're 
 free 
 I'm with you in Rockland 
 in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea- 
 journey on the highway across America in tears 
 to the door of my cottage in the Western night
 

(San Francisco 1955-56)

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