photo
by Sandra L Hazley
it
seemed appropriate to be re-reading
howl
in
a dusty old chair in the
key
west used bookstore
just
up the street from the cemetery
where
souls still living or dead or in purgatory
roam
on over and then spread quietly
throughout
the stacks
leaving
musty remembrances
falling
into other worlds and dimensions
before during and after ginsberg
touching
a most personal copy of a
coney island of the mind
ferlinghetti
mischievously smiling on the wall
notes
in the margins of desolation
angels
that
i bought and eventually lost
or
gave away
likely
buried now with kerouac
and
then there was a signed chapbook from 1972 (?)
by
lyn lifshin
that
passed thru my hands momentarily
and
then back into a cluttered box only to be lost or sold
as
we returned a couple days later
the
bookstore has been gone for many years now
the
reading lamps all removed and replaced
by
sterile corporate logos no doubt
honestly
it might be too painful to look inside
the
old wood frame building
hoping
to hear creaking floors
and
voices
---
e b bortz
