Daydreams for Ginsberg

I lie on my back at midnight

hearing the marvelous strange chime

of the clocks, and know it's mid-

night and in that instant the whole

world swims into sight for me

in the form of beautiful swarm-

ing m u t t a worlds-

everything is happening, shining

Buhudda-lands,

bhuti

blazing in faith, I know I'm

forever right & all's I got to

do (as I hear the ordinary

extant voices of ladies talking

in some kitchen at midnight

oilcloth cups of cocoa

cardore to mump the

rinnegain in his

darlin drain-) i will write

it, all the talk of the world

everywhere in this morning, leav-

ing open parentheses sections

for my own accompanying inner

thoughts-with roars of me

all brain-all world

roaring-vibrating-I put

it down, swiftly, 1,000 words

(of pages) compressed into one second

of time-I'll be long

robed & long gold haired in

the famous Greek afternoon

of some Greek City

Fame Immortal & they'll

have to find me where they find

the t h n u p f t of my

shroud bags flying

flag yagging Lucien

Midnight back in their

mouths-Gore Vidal'll

be amazed, annoyed—

my words'll be writ in gold

& preserved in libraries like

Finnegans Wake & Visions of Neal