Three Poems


let’s get something straight.
i’m a full-fledged member of the
60s generation!
The Generation!
not generation x or double x
or even xxx.
i graduated from high school in 1965
and graduated from college in 1969.
i am completely, unapologetically
a complete product of the crazy, wonderful,
mad, hopeful, imaginative, Imaginative,
love-crazed, liberating, generous, brave,
exciting, pure, unadulterated, unexpurgated,
committed, dreaming, dreamful 60s!
the generation that fought for african americans,
women, kids, foreigners, the generation that ended,
ENDED!!! the vietnam war, the generation that kicked
nixon out of office, the generation of martin luther king,
malcolm x, john kennedy, robert kennedy, medgar evers,
the black panthers, the weather underground, angela davis,
william kuenstler, bob dylan, the beatles, joan baez,
you name it, you name them, any and all, revolutionaries,
dreamers, fighters.
and us, we, i? we inhaled it, ate it, were eaten by it,
entirely consumed by love and truth and justice
and the will to fight the motherfuckers who pushed
fear and hated on us and the world.
did we lose? NO!! they killed us, murdered us,
lied about us, tricked us, all of it.
but they did not destroy us!!
we are here, 60 years old, 65, 70 years old.
you think we’re “senior citizens,” that shitty,
terrible, bullshit, castrating, condescending term.
you think we’re only good for endless commercials
about medicine, illness, hospitals, “senior citizen centers,”
and the rest of it, all of it denying our power, our wisdom,
our endless libidinous energy and courage.
but you’re wrong, totally full of shit.
we are here alive and well.
waiting for some generation, ANY GENERATION
to try to match us! waiting for any generation
to join us!!!

Rich Quatrone

i have a late snack with william blake

i have a late snack with william blake
he comes to me late at night
and says oh richard what the hell
are you doing down here now what the hell
how the hell do you survive
i’ve come to give you a lift
and he reads to me sings to me
plays the harmonium for me
ah sunflower weary old rich he
he shows me his 18th century pornographic
drawings shows me how he makes himself cum
i show him my 21st century sex videos
he says ah weary of time weary of time
and starts dancing around my apartment
i show him photos of thuy-duong and diane
i show him the straps and the white black woven
leather whip fern bought in mexico
and he sings of angels visiting and how we are
naked if we are wise i show him the angels that
i’ve lost all the angels and he weeps with me
and sings of the little boy lost
it’s you richard it’s you he smiles
over chamomile tea and the christmas cakes
william visits me and says what’s next for you
old man in his twist of irony and i say
i have no idea william they’ve never understood me
i’ve been ostracized and i have this overweening pride
that keeps me aloof and i dance and make
love as much as my old body still permits
and william laughs and laughs and laughs
and laughs

Rich Quatrone


love is free
a crow flying in the dark
a raven on the bust of homer
love is as free as a gull scavenging
or the ladybugs a beautiful woman
looses on her garden
love is open
the heart is its own master
its own mistress
nothing ties the heart down
love is poetry that never gets published
love never wins awards
love is a thief in the night
an adulterous woman with a soul on fire
love is a husband bent on murdering
the other man
love is free
there is no prison strong enough
no laws moral enough
love is a frankenstein monster
pieced together from the parts
of strangers
love is a vampire bat turned beautiful man
hovering in the window
it creeps into your dreams
turns your tired life into something exciting
love finds you making love to another man
another woman against your will
while your spouse lies beside you sleeping
love is free
those who try to command it lose
those who try to lose it ruin their hearts
trying to save their lives
love is not for the timid
love is not for those with common
love is inconvenient
foreign every time it arrives
if you can run from love
you’re lucky
if you can run from love
you’re dead in
your tracks

rich quatrone






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