Letterpress poem 10x6" and tipped into black paper folder. It reads:
"Prophecy if I shall find
What I miss. But never mind,
The wish is all rhetorical.
No one is wiser than the wind,
The wind is its own oracle.
Lost, lost, all lost.
It was the wind that took away
My dusty thoughts and all that clay.
What I lost is what I lack,
In heavy dirt; and death someday,
Like the wind, will blow it back,
Lost, lost, all lost.
What is life, and what is death,
And what is wind, but my own breath?
My language goes with what has gone,
But all dead things return to earth
Weary of words and wasted worth,
As I shall do when all is done,
Lost, lost, all lost."
Accompanied by an original painting by Soheyl Dahi, facing letterpress poem in black paper folder, lettered in silver. No. 40/50 copies. This is the first publication of this poem, published in March 2011 by Soheyl Dahi of Sore Dove Press with permission from the estate of Allen Ginsberg.