Daniel Ari

Who wept at the romance

       for Ginsberg and so for Solomon


The moon yacketayakking,
all over the street, danced on
boxcars. Boxcars racketing
over the rooftops. Storefront
Moloch, whose ear is smoking,
wandered around and around
seeking jazz or sex or soup,
trying to giggle, but wound up
with a sob—animal soup
intelligent and shaking.
The archangel of the soul
will never return your soul,
faded out in vast sordid
movies. Holy Istanbul
vanished into nowhere Zen.
Midnight streetlight smalltown rain
ended fainting on the wall.

Daniel Ari has been devoted to the practice since 1985. he has recently placed creative work in Writer’s Digest, carte blanche, Wisdom Crieth Without and anthologies from James Kirk Ward Press and Horrified Press. His quatern, “The Artists’ Honeymoon,” will appear in the 2014 edition of Poet’s Market. At home in Richmond, California, and throughout the Pacific Northwest, he leads poetry performances and events. His blogs are imunuri.blogspot.com and fightswithpoems.blogspot.com.



  1. I love "jazz or sex or soup," as if any of these would do just fine! :) Also the image of the moon dancing on boxcars.

  2. TY. I want to make sure all readers know that all the words here are from Allen Ginsberg's "Howl." Only the selection and arrangement of the phrases is mine. And yes, I agree, the words are glorious. --Daniel


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