![]() Poet on HolidayA Poem by jacob erin-cilbertoPoet on Holiday i wish i lived in Haight Ashbury during the sixties and could have sold my poems on a street corner for a nickel a piece Peace junkies might have paid for a fix my words a diluted drug but charming in masquerade my street corner my chapbook stand two for seven cents three for a dime sans cover, the white pages with black markings that look a lot like letters inducing a rhyme but little reason shoot up a few haiku you won't get too high or take a bad trip past City Lights Books i could never count so 19 syllables will have to suffice i'm the Beat poet with ice in the veins of his pen being run off the premises for having no permit to express just simple savoir faire "Stop the damn war" "Stop hate, stamp it out with soft sounding syllables and wretched punctuation who cares the editing is rash no time, have to sell the banding together of hearts with verse pounding the pavement of dreams, that just have to be realized before they die of starvation. erin-cilberto © 2022 jacob erin-cilbertoReviews
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13 Reviews Added on April 26, 2022 Last Updated on April 27, 2022 Authorjacob erin-cilbertoCarbondale, ILAboutOriginally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..Writing
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