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Remembering Gregory Corso

The world’s no longer gifted
with Gregory Corso,
whose humor, if it
had been plugged in,

would have provided
a great heater
for me on this most famous night
of the holiday season.

I’m sleeping this
Christmas Eve on a roof
not far from Central Park,
poems and newsprint

stuffed in my pockets, my bed
layers of cardboard.
I recite lines
from Gregory’s poem “Marriage”

to help keep warm.
To keep me laughing.
The roof’s pigeons coo and purr
as if they too enjoy

hearing Gregory’s masterpiece.
Drinking
under glitzy stars
I toast the moon

with a round face
like my lovely
Rosalie,
my first wife.

The roof's pots
of Japanese maples rustle
as if their branches
are filled

with wrens
settling in
for a cold
night.

Gregory Corso,
the great poet,
slept on roofs.
So where's the shame

if instead of a narrow room
I curl up
for Christmas Eve
on a roof top

where
the night sky's
as peaceful
as a canvas painted

with a Vantablack background
and dollops
of lead-white
stars?

And
there are no holiday crowds
to push through,
just the traffic of geese

as if in a tribute to Gregory
flying by at roof level
with their joyful
honking.

Bob,

A poem fit for the season. except that I do not know if it only me, but I feel a dropping down when one word hangs alone in the last line.

Siva





PS I am able to reply but not make a fresh post.

Thanks, Siva. Yeh, this forum still has problems with its software. I can’t edit the poem either.

This is as perfect as a poem can be, Bob, send it out.

Thanks, Billy

Nice one, Bob.
I thought it a bit telling in places, sorry to criticise.

The world’s no longer gifted
with Gregory Corso, [as you already have his name in the title, a bit soon to repeat?]

hearing Gregory’s masterpiece. [maybe the pronoun: his, would suit rather than repeat hs name.
Drinking

Gregory Corso,
the great poet,
slept on roofs.
So where's the shame [again the full name, I would settle for just his first name - he is your idol after all.

Was there need to explain that Rosaline was your first wife, does that help the poem along.


I did enjoy the word vandablack, a new word for me.

How nice it is to be back with old poetic pals. What a lovely Christmas present.
How very nice indeed, thanks to Mr. Neff and our old, very old admin: Michael.

So where's the shame is a typo, I can't remember what I meant to say, maybe something about name.

Thanks for the feedback, Ieuan. It’s good to get your comments again.