Unable to sleep in the early hours of all the saints, my mind wanders off into the darkness, chasing satori in the owl’s throaty call.
Bible-thin anthology pages
in his shaky hands
my grandfather
reads Howl aloud
in the kitchen
Unable to sleep in the early hours of all the saints, my mind wanders off into the darkness, chasing satori in the owl’s throaty call.
Bible-thin anthology pages
in his shaky hands
my grandfather
reads Howl aloud
in the kitchen
Howl? Moving Castle?
Howl, the poem by Allen Ginsberg.
I’m slow. Not as familiar with Ginsberg as with fantasy and YA lit. Expanding my horizons.
I recently had the opportunity of reading the first draft of ‘Howl’.
I own an anniversary edition of Howl that has the different drafts. It’s fantastic to read through.