Lawrence Ferlinghetti performed last night at the 92 Street Y in NYC. I was in total awe of the man! He looked great for his age (88) and was really physically fit. I think I expected a frail old man with hippie hair and grimy clothes. I remember being in college and hearing about the "beats" and how they dressed and he did not fit the image. I was in the eighth row, so I got a real good look at him and he was neat and clean. He read from one of his first poetry books
A Coney Island of the Mind: Poems and one of his last Americus, Book I. I loved that he shared some of his upcoming prose (that will be released in the next few months), as well as a reading of a few poems accompanied by background music. I would have stayed around for the book signing, but the line was crazy long and I had a good drive home. Overall, it was an amazing night!
One of the new poems he read:
ARE THERE NOT STILL FIREFLIES
Are there not still fireflies
Are there not still four-leaf clovers
Is not our land still beautiful
Our fields not full of armed enemies
Our cities never bombed to oblivion
in their huddled masses
(What is that sound that fills the ear
drumming drumming?)
Is not Rome still Rome
Is not Los Angeles still Los Angeles
Are these really the last days of the Roman Empire
Is not beauty still beauty
And truth still truth
Are there not still poets
Are there not still lovers
Are there not still mothers
sisters and brothers
Is there not still a full moon
once a month
Are there not still fireflies
Are there not still stars at night
Can we not still see them
in bowl of night
signalling to us
our so-called manifest destinies?
