RIP Lawrence Ferlinghetti.

I heard him speak his poem “Pictures of the Gone World” at the City Lights Bookstore in San Francisco several years ago.

He was towering grey haired, yet vibrant man. Guest of the hour, but mingling with the drop-in poetry aficionados, passing out slips of paper advertising an upcoming poetry reading. Unassuming. Powerful words poured from his lips.

And so, his pencil has worn down, but his poems will be long remembered.

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