When you mentioned a crow I thought of Allan Poe Yet your words wielded Allan Ginsberg’s queerness Your awesome Americanness Shuffled Allan’s wit With your heart and gut.
You gave us a performance But none of that heart and flowers Romance You were real and raw On paper, in person Personifying Writing about it all.
Out of your world came out The ardent desire to feed the pyre Of ravenous demanding poetry With no rhymes but sentences A sentence which sent on death row The rest of the worlds I heard today.
Words are wasted but yours resembled A cherry-shed coke’s can, vintage 1975.
Lyon, November 6, 2016
Had the chance to meet Dickman in person and have him sign one of his poetry books for me