The Burning Hedge

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  • Allegory

    The Burning Hedge
    Tunneling gentile is heeling me into unending delight;
    Binge debit teeing the night,
    As the indulgent needling is unhinged,
    Heeding to the being deigned by the hedge.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    bakersdoce’s Poems (5)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Arachne's Direction 1 11/18/2008
    Betweem Inferno and Paradise 0 11/18/2008
    Victorious Tree 0 11/18/2008
    Place For The Hat 0 11/18/2008
    The Burning Hedge 0 11/18/2008
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