PRAISE POEM HERSCHEL SILVERMAN

  










Dear Hersch!

It was grandiose it was the most
It was absomotelymentous
On the tip of the top where the crocked cricket hopped
The plain fear dropped
I stopped
Shut everthing up in everywhere
Kicked over the house to set the cleared
Breath to bringing a breathing intuition
Into remission so the mission I woulda accomplished it
Except for the bozo who wrinkled it
Caught the shirt tail on the third rail
While the fifth column ate the sixth sense
It was a riot! You gotta try it
And see what the mixed up mix aughta be
Once set free
The way it sent me
The way it aughta be
The way in the way way outta the way
Where there ain’t no way left
Cept the way out way out
So far it’s so far
Too far to be sure
Too pure to be your indefatigueable response
Yours truly


Eternal Dissonance
Ps in prose, your LongShot Resonse which I saw in orig issue meant everything to a guy who likes to give everything for great god Poesy!
Bless you, Hersch, and all yr projectiles: poems, bits o’spit, human consciousness mobiles, etc.