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Late For Poetry

by Sandy M. Humphrey

it should have been
me dressed in black
in coffee houses
in the village
of Kerouac

sitting at the
round table
with Dorothy
waxing philosophical
reveling in wine
and clouds of smoke

feeding on other's
words till sunrise
pressing against
socities boundaries
yet it seems I am
late for poetry

as it became the
VOICE of a beat
and a generation
took to the road
with snapping fingers
and folk guitars

to HOWL
spreading the
word to cool
hep cats
in the
Know

I
was born
Out of place
Out of time
But the Beat
Goes On

03/25/2013

Author's Note: Word Candy Poetry Prompt in Honor of World Poetry Day..."I am late for Poetry" Lyla Willingham Lindquist write a poem using the term. Why are you late, it poetry waiting for you, ...... I have always felt I was born too late for the generation I belonged too...did you ever feel that way too?

Posted on 03/25/2013
Copyright © 2020 Sandy M. Humphrey

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by George Hoerner on 03/25/13 at 06:32 PM

I was so fortunate. I was 19 and sat with 2 friends on an apartment floor in Paris in 1956 as the rentor read Howl which had just been published a yaer or so before. I had played with poetry in school but this woke me up. I was stuned with its power. I was also fortunate to hear him read it in NYC a decade or so later. It was great. Nice write Sandy.

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