rubbing elbows with Allen Ginsberg

I met Allen Ginsberg in a memorable manner, while I was a student at the University of Kansas,
in 1987 at the River City Reunion; a beat poet gathering in Lawrence, Kansas, home of William Burroughs.
My dad had given me a copy of Ginsberg's Collected Works, recently published. I
had it at the K.U. Student Union ballroom where Ginsberg was giving a public reading. There were
hundreds of people there, several of my friends.
   When it was time to start, Allen asked the audience if anyone had a copy of his book---he had
neglected to bring one. I approached and offered mine. He read from it, also singing with the Fugs
musician Steven Taylor. I got it back when he was finished, and he'd left a folded piece of plain
paper in it that read "poems to read." The following day or the next, I saw him again in the Student
Union. He signed my book. Then, he was in the audience for an open poetry reading, which happened
to be the first time I'd read my poetry in public. I sat with him awhile as others read, and he was kind,
friendly, supportive about the reading.

_____________

I saw him a few years later in 1991 in Portland, Oregon, at Powell's bookstore, where he was signing
books. I arrived wrapped in an Aztec blanket. Those were some tough days.
   I needed money not long ago, and sold that book White Shroud. Powells bought it back, and was
going to retail it for $80. I got $12 or so, and had a few beers.

__________


The last time I ran into Allen was in Powells, again, in the cafe magazine area with its big
glass windows overlooking Burnside street. He was sitting at a table, and I joined him. I asked if
he remembered me, and he did. He asked about what I was doing, who I was reading lately. I told him Richard Brautigan. 
He didn't let on if that displeased him. I didn't want to bother him, or seek anything.

 Being around grace and genius is a reward in and of itself.