what I mean when I say I’m sharpening my oyster knife
I mean I’m here
to eat up all the ocean you thought was yours.
I mean I brought my own quarter of a lemon,
tart and full of seeds. I mean I’m a tart.
I’m a bad seed. I’m a red-handled thing
and if you move your eyes from me
I’ll cut the tender place where your fingers meet.
I mean I never met a dish of horseradish I didn’t like.
I mean you’re a twisted and ugly root
and I’m the pungent, stinging firmness inside.
I mean I look so good in this hat
with a feather
and I’m a feather
and I’m the heaviest featherweight you know.
I mean you can’t spell anything I talk about
with that sorry alphabet you have left over from yesterday.
when I see something dull and uneven,
barnacled and ruined,
I know how to get to its iridescent everything.
I mean I eat them alive.
what I mean is I’ll eat you alive,
slipping the blade in sideways, cutting
nothing because the space was always there.
I am waiting
–Lawrence FerlinghettiI am waiting for my case to come upand I am waitingfor a rebirth of wonderand I am waiting for someoneto really discover Americaand wailand I am waitingfor the discoveryof a new symbolic western frontierand I am waitingfor the American Eagleto really spread its wingsand straighten up and fly rightand I am waitingfor the Age of Anxietyto drop deadand I am waitingfor the war to be foughtwhich will make the world safefor anarchyand I am waitingfor the final withering awayof all governmentsand I am perpetually awaitinga rebirth of wonderI am waiting for the Second Comingand I am waitingfor a religious revivalto sweep thru the state of Arizonaand I am waitingfor the Grapes of Wrath to be storedand I am waitingfor them to provethat God is really Americanand I am waitingto see God on televisionpiped onto church altarsif only they can findthe right channelto tune in onand I am waitingfor the Last Supper to be served againwith a strange new appetizerand I am perpetually awaitinga rebirth of wonderI am waiting for my number to be calledand I am waitingfor the Salvation Army to take overand I am waitingfor the meek to be blessedand inherit the earthwithout taxesand I am waitingfor forests and animalsto reclaim the earth as theirsand I am waitingfor a way to be devisedto destroy all nationalismswithout killing anybodyand I am waitingfor linnets and planets to fall like rainand I am waiting for lovers and weepersto lie down together againin a new rebirth of wonderI am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossedand I am anxiously waitingfor the secret of eternal life to be discoveredby an obscure general practitionerand I am waitingfor the storms of lifeto be overand I am waitingto set sail for happinessand I am waitingfor a reconstructed Mayflowerto reach Americawith its picture story and tv rightssold in advance to the nativesand I am waitingfor the lost music to sound againin the Lost Continentin a new rebirth of wonderI am waiting for the daythat maketh all things clearand I am awaiting retributionfor what America didto Tom Sawyerand I am waitingfor Alice in Wonderlandto retransmit to meher total dream of innocenceand I am waitingfor Childe Roland to cometo the final darkest towerand I am waitingfor Aphroditeto grow live armsat a final disarmament conferencein a new rebirth of wonderI am waitingto get some intimationsof immortalityby recollecting my early childhoodand I am waitingfor the green mornings to come againyouth’s dumb green fields come back againand I am waitingfor some strains of unpremeditated artto shake my typewriterand I am waiting to writethe great indelible poemand I am waitingfor the last long careless raptureand I am perpetually waitingfor the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urnto catch each other up at lastand embraceand I am awaitingperpetually and forevera renaissance of wonder