Monterey

We met at a curious Youth Hostel in Monterey.

The fellow at the counter talked about philosophy

Another sat down and played Mozart.

It was all so un-Hostel.

At night I sat with a few people around a camp

Fire drinking beer, and smoking cigarettes.

I sat opposite a fellow who looked distinctly

Like Steinbeck; after all Salinas was only

Down the road.

A woman told me she was a Sufi, and a young

Man from Eugene, Oregon told me of his

Wilderness walk. A young German girl, pretty

As a wildflower asked me and the young man

If we would like to see the sun set on the back-beach.

When we got there the ROAR

Was so loud we could hardly hear each other talk.

We took off our clothes and danced naked

Smiling like Lunatics  chanting our Om

To the stars, the setting sun and coming

Moon

These are the nights God

Invented. These are the nights

We were born for.

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