As Crazy as Allen Ginsberg

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Imagination is a bit too small

Inside my brain.  I can’t imagine why

An Indian chef would ruin food, appal

It with green peas, or someone would defy

True poetry with Rap.  I can’t conceive

Stupidity enough to want to sing

A County Western song when Wesleys weave

Samuel Sebastian Wesley

Their fugues of notes in music where a wing

Of Gabriel exists already.  I

Suppose it can’t make any sense to sling

Some glaze on porcelain except as sly

Attacks on art when there is gracious Ming.

  There’s craziness around me, much, much bad.

    I think the world has gone completely mad.

~ Phillip Whidden