Hippies Need Love Too | |
For the Beautiful Woman Across the Room
Louis McKee
In a time of Revolution for instance
I could have fucked her"
–Lawrence Ferlinghetti
In another time, in another place,
I could have gotten her
attention, could have wooed her
with my allegiances, my afffectations,
recited to her a poem
laden with revolution and romance,
one I drew just for her–her lovely eyes
and wonderful long hair–from the heart,
from Brautigan, or from Ferlinghetti.
There was a time and a place
where beautiful people walked
with the rest of us. We all carried signs,
wore buttons, and damned things
that made no sense. We stood together
in crowds, sang the same songs.
They couldn’t tell us
apart, the radicals and angels,
and when they gassed us they gassed us all.
The night we took over
the offices in College Hall, after
the commotion died down, and even
the public defiance squad parked across the street
was nodding off over cold coffee,
I was stoned enough on the events of the day
that I sprawled out next to the prettiest girl
on campus and used her
blanket against the cold tile floor,
but kept my distance, that few
tremendous inches between our bodies,
and stayed there for hours, my breath
stretching to reach the hairs at her neck,
waiting for her to turn, to change
positions, to join the revolution.
***
Sent by a retro-hippie caller who just tickles my pink. And he knows it.
McKee at Wikipedia
An interview with Louis Mckee
Good poem. Brings back a few memories. Like sitting on the roof of my dorm watching Washington, D.C. burn when MLK got shot.
Sex was pretty available in the 60s. Thumbing one’s nose at the establishment (who deserved it) had a nice, aphrodisiac effect. It certainly got me laid on a few memorable occasions.
Today, sadly, we don’t take to the streets much anymore. And for an aphrodisiac effect we seem to have turned to Viagra.
Lots of memories. I never realized what romantics we really were.
I’m always impressed with the poetry you present here and this time was no exception. With apologies to Mr. Hope, Mr. PQS, and Mr. C.
…thanks for the memories.