I just rediscovered this Peter Orlovsky poem I was obsessed with in high school.
Orlovsky was Allen Ginsberg's partner. The spelling of many of the words is technically incorrect, but there is a definite charm about it and some of his contemporaries would say "He doesn't misspell, that's just the way he spells." This reminds me of artist Sean Lander's (sic) book, which I have yet to read.
Here's the poem:
A rainbow comes pouring into my window, I am electrified.
Songs burst from my breast, all my crying stops, mistory fills
I look for my shues under my bed.
A fat colored woman becomes my mother.
I have no false teeth yet. Suddenly ten children sit on my lap.
I grow a beard in one day.
I drink a hole bottle of wine with my eyes shut.
I draw on paper and I feel I am two again. I want everybody to
talk to me.
I empty the garbage on the tabol.
I invite thousands of bottles into my room, June bugs I call them.
I use the typewritter as my pillow.
A spoon becomes a fork before my eyes.
Bums give all their money to me.
All I need is a mirror for the rest of my life.
My frist five years I lived in chicken coups with not enough
My mother showed her witch face in the night and told stories of
My dreams lifted me right out of my bed.
I dreamt I jumped into the nozzle of a gun to fight it out with a
I met Kafka and he jumped over a building to get away from me.
My body turned into sugar, poured into tea I found the meaning
All I needed was ink to be a black boy.
I walk on the street looking for eyes that will caress my face.
I sang in the elevators believing I was going to heaven.
I got off at the 86th floor, walked down the corridor looking for
My comes turns into a silver dollar on the bed.
I look out the window and see nobody, I go down to the street,
look up at my window and see nobody.
So I talk to the fire hydrant, asking "Do you have bigger tears
then I do?"
Nobody around, I piss anywhere.
My Gabriel horns, my Gabriel horns: unfold the cheerfulies,
my gay jubilation.
(Nov. 24th, 1957, Paris)