"Ow?" asks the cockney -- "ow'd oy get hinto this
poem?" An owl should screech "OW!"
But the owl knows (another "ow" word -- know) --
knows every pain is a who, usually a hot who one has
wooed -- what a hoot!
"Howl!" cried a poet, who really wanted to cry
"How'll?" -- "How'll I get into that angel-headed
pants?" "How well I howl!" cried the owl,
a foul fowl. The owlish poet cried, "How well
I howl! How'll that get my honey of generation
into your angel-headed-hipster-hugging pants,
Honey?" and the best minds of his generation
dropped their pants and bent over in the Negro streets,
panting, looking for a fix. And the poet trance-
Howl. Unfair to the owlish poet, but how else
could I get howl, how well, how'll and how else
together (at last!) in a single sentence?
[The remainder of this page and of that poet's poems
have been intentionally left blessedly blank, both here
and in my best-of-generation (A-to-Z) mind.]
[I lied! But the rest of this page is really REALLY
blank! See for yourself. (See yourself there, seeing
the blankness of the rest of this page?)]
Note: Here and in the poem a few pages back, I point to woe and
ow being a who that is, a person, a being, a someone. This
is what most psychiatrists complicate with their vague notion of
"stress" as the villain. Stress ins SOMEone. If you are
stressed, it's because someone is putting that stress there for
you. It helps to know this and to be able to spot the source of
stress leads to the possibility of doing something unmedicated
about it. Oops, this part of the page was supposed to be blank.
"Howl", "the owlish poet", "angel-headed
hipster", "the best minds of [his] generation" and
the "Negro streets" all refer Alan Ginsberg (who seems
owlish to me), his most famous poem ("Howl") and to passages
near the beginning of that poem. The part about those best minds
bent over and transfixed by the poet refer to Alan Ginsberg's love
life. He liked youngish boys not children, apparently, but
late teens. He was a horny owl, perhaps.