The Last Time I Met Allen Ginsberg
I was walking through Tompkins Square Park
About two years after the brain surgery
From which I was still recovering.
I saw Allen.
He came toward me.
He touched me in the center of my chest.
The heart chakra opened
And remained open for several months.
Within a week or two, Allen was dead.
It took me six years more to recover from the surgery.
I never saw Allen again.
–Tom Savage
Poetry
That’s a beautiful, evocative memory. The park must have felt magical that day. Makes you think about fleeting moments and lasting impacts. Speaking of simple joys, anyone here ever get completely lost in the zen of Snow Rider 3D? The purity of carving down a snowy hill, like Ginsberg’s touch, stays with you long after. It’s a simple game, but surprisingly profound.