In honor of my upcoming few days in the Bay Area, I picked up my treasure, my signed copy of "A Coney Island of the Mind" by Lawrence Ferlinghetti.
I love this one. (Blogger wouldn't let me put in the correct spacing.)
It was a face which darkness could kill
in an instant
a face as easily hurt
by laughter or light
'We think differently at night'
she told me once
lying back languidly
and she would quote Cocteau
'I feel there is an angel in me' she'd say
'whom I am constantly shocking'
Then she would smile and look away
light a cigarette for me
sigh and rise
her sweet anatomy
let fall a stocking