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  • Always three in red and six in black;
  • always at least one lined face;
  • always a few on display;
  • usually a headache, and absolutely always
  • a hangover;
  • 2 or 3 God-struck ones.
  • 2 blond kids hoping to get laid.
  • 6 ex-junkies, 4 homosexuals.
  • 17 bisexuals, and 2 sad celibates;
  • possibly four with talent, all
  • secretly knowing themselves the nation’s greatest;
  • always two dropped-out musicians:
  • “I used to play alto,”
  • “I played drums”;
  • one ex-beauty, one nervous lady with short hair.
  • one male late-adolescent sexual posturer;
  • always a babbling refugee from hallucinogens;
  • one with a long poem called “The Ultimate List,”
  • one meshugina talking about corduroy tulips.
  • and one Visiting Star.

Dan Propper (1937–2003) grew up in Brooklyn. His poem “The Fable of the Final Hour,” from a collection of his poetry of the same title, was published in Seymour Krim’s famous anthology The Beats. In 1977, Energy Press published a collection of Propper’s Pablo Neruda translations, Pablo Neruda: 23 Poems, and that same year a full collection of his poems, The Tale of the Amazing Tramp, was published by Cherry Valley Editions. Three years later, Energy Press published For Kerouac in Heaven. Associated with the Beat Poets, Dan Propper spent a number of years living in Ramona, California, and the final years of his life in the New York towns of Woodstock and Saugerties. “One, Two, Many Poetry Readings” is taken from his collection The Tale of the Amazing Tramp.

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Comments

nan shartel May 23, 2012 @ 3 p.m.

i'm excited!!

Dan was rolling in San Fran when i was living there..he was part of the North Beach scene..along with the occasional stay's of Ginsburg and of course Kerouac

here's one of his most famous poems

The Fable of the Final Hour

In the 58th minute of the final hour all of the white-collar

workers in the world called in sick;

In the 59th minute of the final hour all of the doors were

ripped off of their frames and hauled off to a roaring

bonfire with only the hinges left hanging as mute

reminders of a sad and frightened history;

And in the 60th minute of the final hour America was

discovered and the final renaissance of

beauty and love

began its eternity.

but here's my most favorite

Asleep

you are a different person;

the chinablue-eyed

Modigliani-long-hot-catlike

you

relaxes

into a womanshadowed girl,

warm, curled-up,

the soft sigh of your breath

issuing

i mean how many poets have a reference to Modigliani in a poem

the guy was a truly fine example of the BEAT Era poet and i want to personally thank the Reader for including him in the weekly poetry section!!!

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