Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Present Tense

A thousand noons hatch
at horizon where the
gate sings

I peel my selves
for you to
winds bringing hours

You I knew
in a million colors, world

stacks of
nacreous factories

A razor
stubble chin where
constellations crouch

Tiny machines ply
the after-
noon sky, useless as

1 comment:

farabo said...

Dear Larry, I just learned of the death of Laurence Weisberg on his memorial site on milk. I knew Larry, as he was then affectionatly known, when he was 19 years old and I was 21. We worked together at the Los Angeles Free Press Bookstore. He was a huge influence on my life: even then he was a formidable poet, an extraordinary human being, a mystical soul.
Over the years I have made many seaqrches for news of him on the internet. It was with shock and sorrow that whe I finally found him it was to learn of his passing.

Please, can you tell me something about his life?
thank you, laura farabough