Whether the epiphany came in a ward or on a NYC street,
Ginsberg grasped and said out loud what everyone knows but could never
Cough it up—that the Prince of this World, the God of the Western faith,
Jesus’ Dad, and Adon of the Vatican is Moloch, the polymorphic Beast,
who commands infant sacrifice and for who human death and blood
is his life and infernal Grail—but not only Ginsberg meant it the end
as a profession of his own piety, febrile love, and deepest exultation,
but, on hearing the prophet, all but shucked and jived in playing dumb.
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