Looking for myself in you (an ode to Allen Ginsberg)

I’ve been looking for myself in you
for pictures of you in books
shadows of you in words.

I once thought I saw a photograph of me
black on white
but I was mistaken.
It was a balding little man,
displeased,
in the light of dawn,
standing beneath the pleiades.

I sent you a postcard once
three men laughing
and the one with no teeth
who held the fish
smelled of death.

by Paul Bourgeois
Vantaa, Finland, March, 2012

fishermen

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