2 Poems by
Ryan Rowe
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NO DENYING
Watching Friday Night Fights
peddling Joe Frazier,
a tattered old man
with the heart he always had.
I was always more like you Joe...
Ali?s greatness was apparent.
You continually coming
and battering,
tearing at the seams
no matter how many times you went down.
Brutalizing away
in merciless work agony.
Not always winning,
but always coming.
Waiting for the one left hook
to vault you to eternity.
TO A MAN I'VE NEVER BEEN
OVERLY ZEALOUS ABOUT
Last night
I dreamt I sat
while Ginsberg
put clothes in a drawer
and spoke aloud
with one of his poet-band of followers
about the benefits
of eating volcanic sand
once a week.
Oh and I scoffed,
immediately scoffed at the notion.
And Ginsberg bellowed,
"YOU'RE ALWAYS SUCH A DICK!"
Yes Allen,
I am,
always have been.
Never wanted to dabble
with clinging or with masses.
But may we both roll like thunder, Allen.
Snatch bits of dark night sky.
Roll like thunder, Allen.
Thunder and ashes.
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