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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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OBRIGADO MEANS THANK YOU,

                MR. GINSBERG


Walk down Main Plaza to find Moloch, in a black leather jacket,

selling hashish in a train station terminal,

where beggars shuffle in and out of turnstile exits like tired breezes,

hand out jingles coin in cup, cup in greasy

outstretched hands, gigantic wine-bottled maypoles

and Belem pastries wafting sweet scents,

paint-splotched schizophrenic sidewalk vomit dried in the sun.

 

To the street apothecary who offered cocaine when I refused hash,

and heroine after I rejected cocaine, obrigado.

Obrigado to the Pick-Pocket who took my last twenty-euro note,

and the street vendor who laughed at my misfortune.

To the failing winds that echoed through the train station sounding like

a fading Walt Whitman, obrigado.

 

Thanks, Berardo Museum of Modern Art, Padrão dos Descobrimentos,

sausage stand that gave me heartburn,

transgendered good samaritan, Lisboa street musician, open-fish market Saturday’s.

Mr.Ginsberg, I heard your Phoenician idol

howling as I read Carl’s poem next to the pier, it sounded like he was yelling:

Thank you, thank you all;

but I don’t really speak Portuguese, so I can’t be sure.


                                                           -Matthew Guzman