An Open Window On Chicago-ethereal_interface/Allen Ginsberg

歌手 : ethereal_interface / Allen Ginsberg

专辑 : Allen Ginsberg's The Fall of America: A 50th Anniversary Musical Tribute

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时长 : 04:22

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TXT An Open Window On Chicago-ethereal_interface/Allen Ginsberg 文本歌词

An Open Window on Chicago

Midwinter night,

Clark & Halstead brushed with this week's snow grill lights blinking at

the corner

decades ago

Smokestack poked above roofs & watertower

standing still above the blue

lamped boulevards,

sky blacker than th' east

for all the steel smoke

settled in heaven from South.

Downtown—like Batman's Gotham City

battleshipped with Lights,

towers winking under clouds,

police cars blinking on Avenues,

space above city misted w/fine soot

cars crawling past redlites down Avenue,

exuding white wintersmoke—

Eat Eat said the sign, so I went in the Spanish Diner

The girl at the counter, whose yellow Bouffant roots

grew black over her pinch'd face, spooned her coffee with knuckles

puncture-marked,

whose midnight wrists had needletracks,

scars inside her arms:

"Wanna go get a Hotel Room with me?"

The Heroin Whore

thirty years ago come haunting Chicago's midnite streets,

me come here so late with my beard!

Corner Grill-lights blink, police car turned

& took away its load of bum to jail,

black uniforms patrolling streets

where suffering

lifts a hand palsied by Parkinson's Disease

to beg a cigarette.

The psychiatrist came visiting this Hotel 12th floor—

Where does the Anger come from?

Outside! Radio messages, images on Television,

Electric Networks spread

fear of murder on the streets—

"Communications Media"

inflict the Vietnam War & its anxiety on every private skin

in hotel room or bus—

Sitting, meditating quietly on Great Space outside—

Bleep Bleep dit dat dit radio on, Television

murmuring, bombshells crash on flesh

his flesh my flesh all the same.—

The Dakini in the hotel room turns in her sleep

while War news flashes thru Aether—

Shouts at streetcorners as bums

crawl in the metal policevan.

And there's a tiny church in middle Chicago

with its black spike to the black air

And there's the new Utensil Towers round on horizon.

And there's red glow of Central Neon

on hushed building walls at 4 A.M.,

And there's proud Lights & Towers of Man's Central City

looking pathetic at 4 A.M., traveler passing through,

staring outa hotel window under Heaven—

Is this tiny city the best we can do?

These tiny reptilian towers

so proud of their Executives

they haveta build a big sign in middle downtown to Advertise

old Connor's Insurance sign fading on brick building side—

Snow on deserted roofs & parkinglots—

Hog Butcher to the World!?

Taxi-Harmonious Modernity grown rusty-old—

The prettiness of Existence! To sit at the window

& moan over Chicago's stone & brick

lifting itself vertical tenderly,

hanging from the sky.

Elbow on windowsill,

I lean and muse, taller than any building here

Steam from my head

wafting into the smog

Elevators running up & down my leg

Couples copulating in hotelroom beds in my belly

& bearing children in my heart,

Eyes shining like warning-tower Lights,

Hair hanging down like a black cloud—

Close your eyes on Chicago and be God,

all Chicago is, is what you see—

That row of lights Finance Building

sleeping on its bottom floors,

Watchman stirring

paper coffee cups by bronzed glass doors—

and under the bridge, brown water

floats great turds of ice beside buildings' feet

in windy metropolis waiting for a Bomb.

January 8, 1967

(Courtesy Harper Collins Publishers / City Lights Publishers)