Monday, September 9, 2019

Allen Ginsberg, "In Society"

In Society

I walked into the cocktail party
room and found three or four queers
talking together in queertalk.
I tried to be friendly but heard
myself talking to one in hiptalk.
"I'm glad to see you," he said, and
looked away. "Hmn," I mused. The room
was small and had a double-decker
bed in it, and cooking apparatus:
icebox, cabinet, toaster, stove;
the hosts seemed to live with room
enough only for cooking and sleeping.
My remark on this score was understood
but not appreciated. I was
offered refreshments, which I accepted.
I ate a sandwich of pure meat; an 
enormous sandwich of human flesh,
I noticed, while I was chewing on it,
it also included a dirty asshole. 

More company came, including a
fluffy female who looked like 
a princess. She glared at me and
said immediately: "I don't like you," 
turned her head away, and refused
to be introduced. I said, "What!" 
in outrage. "Why you shit-faced fool!"
This got everyone's attention
"Why you narcissistic bitch! How
can you decide when you don't even
know me," I continued in a violent 
and messianic voice, inspired at
last, dominating the whole room

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