Pigeons shake their wings on the copper church roof
out my window across the street, a bird perched on the cross
surveys the city's blue-grey clouds.
'll come at 10 AM and take my picture.
your picture, pigeons.
I'm writing you down, Dawn.
I'm immortalizing your exhaust, Avenue A bus.
O Thought! Now you'll have to think the same thing forever!
New York, June 7, 1980, 6:48 A.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
Top Allen Ginsberg Poems
Analysis and Comments on Fourth Floor Dawn Up All Night Writing Letters
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Fourth Floor Dawn Up All Night Writing Letters here.