Allen Ginsberg, Allen Ginsberg!
What are you doing here
perusing these stacks and stacks
of fax machines, cell phones
and printers?
Have you sold out,
bought stock at Staples?
Or, is the existential emptiness
of shoppers going nowhere ,
credit cards their crack cocaine,
wandering aisles of legal pads,
paper reams and paper clips
at Office Depot more to your liking?
Dear Allen,
don’t you know Walt Whitman,
Kerouac and Lorca,
those three muse-keteers,
are next door at Starbucks
gawking,
checking out that cute
kid with the crew-cut
who foams and serves
your scrumptious
cappucinos?
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