Birthday poem for the immortal Roxy Reno

Theogenes Proof




(You are)

Dolted quills angel headed hipsters culled from Kerouac’s first wet dream

The Crying trumpeting across the sky when Gravity’s Rainbow first screamed

You are the ducks in the Central Park lagoon Holden sought, such elusive fowl

You are the fiery-eyed dynamo machinery of the night when Ginsberg first read Howl

You are Bukowski’s Ham On Rye, Burroughs lunch left naked and raw

You are overturned bucket poetic renderings with a two shots of whiskey mixed with Adderall

You are the scattered boos accompanied when Bob Dylan First plugged in

The spermy residue leftover in the mouth of Eve, the original first sin

You were Cassady’s stolen hubcap, a joyride with Ken Kessey and Hunter S.

You are the paradigm on how to live a full life void of materialistic excess

You are the bait in Braudigan’s tackle box while fishing for trout across the land
You are the reason Odysseus walked twenty years just to kiss his Penelope’s hand

Or Lorca waddling barefoot across South American promulgating his poems

You are the breath preceding the voice accompanying Buddha’s enlightened "ohm."
You are Whitman's yawp barbaric, Sylvia’s oven nub, Anne and her gasoline gin
The doily white pasty interior thighs thought Henry Miller while fucking Anais Nin
You are the universal male kiosk, odalisque intractable eternal phallus

You are solar nexus hurricane, the last bandanna worn by David Foster Wallace.

And those these bars now hold you, yer wrists now found in chains

They cannot hold your spirit brother, they cannot hold your brain

They cannot take your narratives gilded draughts of spilled glory

That cannot pluck your identity or your poetry or your stories

They cannot pillage what’s inside of you— your knowledge courage and your art.

They cannot cage your kindness bro, they cannot manacle your heart

And while this imperialistic shopping mall may curtail your sociological living

They can’t harness your feral dream and they can’t stop you from giving

Be adamant in your beliefs in mankind’s potential as a perennial encore

Listen as the audience yelps out I WONT BE BROKEN ANYMORE

Though you feel the state has mortgaged even your marrow to be sold

Know that you will always have Theogenes’ arms to hold