Letter from Provincetown
the beauty
of this place
is beyond me
reds and blues of the morning sky
then how high
white in the sky
the sun stands
you get grays off the water later
and greens
wherever you go
I can never
do it
justice
all my writing here lain
around me a study
in that failure
having been here you know
what its like where I am
what I’m in and somehow
without you how its going
but the beauty
has saved me
taken me back
and though beyond me
in my own terms
I am never nearly
beyond its
so I captive happily bound
by these elements
move now as nature
not your love sets the pace
By:
Ivan Wendell Hubbard 1950-1991
Courtesy of Bridget Galway and their son Blake Galway
New York 1960
BY: Bridget Galway
my crazy drunken aunt
who carried me everywhere
room to room
to street
candy under her bed
(mostly peppermint)
made Mom nuts screaming
until they drove her to the bin
a ride in the country
like we were normal
looking out the back window
at clouds light speckle
through elm branches quiet
everything ok
NY 79
he showed me the shooting galleries
the ABC’S of search for a vein
descended staircases
to broken landings
drug warmed
faces masked
idol
everything ok
together
on street corners
park benches
the sound of funk
uh uhn uh uh uhn
mostly I loved
the way my head fit into his back
half asleep
waiting for the subway
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