Here you will find the Poem Birthplace Revisited of poet Gregory Corso
I stand in the dark light in the dark street and look up at my window, I was born there. The lights are on; other people are moving about. I am with raincoat; cigarette in mouth, hat over eye, hand on gat. I cross the street and enter the building. The garbage cans haven't stopped smelling. I walk up the first flight; Dirty Ears aims a knife at me? I pump him full of lost watches.
