In my kitchen in New York by Allen Ginsberg

for Bataan Faigao

Bend knees, shift weight

Picasso’s blue deathhead self portrait

tacked on refrigerator door

This is the only space in the apartment

big enough to do taichi

Straighten right foot & rise–I wonder

if I should have set aside that garbage

pail

Raise up my hands & bring them back to

shoulders–The towels and pyjama

laundry’s hanging on a rope in the hall

Push down & grasp the sparrow’s tail

Those paper boxes of grocery bags are

blocking the closed door

Turn north–I should hang up all

those pots on the stovetop

Am I holding the world right? That

Hopi picture on the wall shows

rain & lightning bolt

Turn right again–thru the door, God

my office space is a mess of

pictures & unanswered letters

Left on my hips–Thank God Arthur Rimbaud’s

watching me from over the sink

Single whip–piano’s in the room, well

Steven & Maria finally’ll move to their

own apartment next week! His pants’re

still here & Julius in his bed

This gesture’s the opposite of St. Francis

in Ecstasy by Bellini–hands

down for me

I better concentrate on what I’m doing

weight in belly, move by hips

No, that was the single whip–that apron’s

hanging on the North wall a year

I haven’t used it once

Except to wipe my hands–the Crane

spreads its wings have I paid

the electric bill?

Playing the guitar do I have enough $

to leave the rent paid while I’m

in China?

Brush knee – that was good

halavah, pounded sesame seed,

in the icebox a week

Withdraw & push – I should

get a loft or giant living room

The land speculators bought up all

the sqaure feet in Manhattan,

beginning with the Indians

Cross hands – I should write

a letter to the Times saying

it’s unethical

Come to rest hands down knees

straight – I wonder how

my liver’s doing. O.K. I guess

tonite, I quit smoking last

week. I wonder if they’ll blow

up an H Bomb? Probably not.

- Manhattan Midnite September 5, 1984