I sitting here reading old stinky Jr.
i.e. ginsburg---
he of the thousand asses of god,
his face pressed
against the Corinthian column,
tears in his big eyes behind the taped up horn rims,
ecstatic, at the immensity of the swollen word\
dripping with seed from the corner of his mouth,
into the moth eaten beard he chews on while his brain
billows like a sail in Moby Dick, the harpoon
striking the blubber; and bubbles from the chemicals
laid on like tea on a texas stove in the hot afternoon.
Disaster on the Holy sea,
the rush of Consciousness
into buddha’s botch!
the lick of lips at the thought,
the platypus of Luck!
( !!!!!) ...and so on.
I think I’ll watch Daffy Duck.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Ginsburg,Jack Kerouac wanna be?
his writing seems a bit overdone if that is possible for poetry. Seems like someone who Howled about being a great poet and got a generation to agree.
I have found more real depth and emotion in just a few short stanzas from writers in here than i see in the endless whining of "G".
Crack that whip!!!
A+ for pushing other poetry around.
Great work. Thank you for contributing.
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I'm giggling. But you already know that.
I remember when I took that Post Modern class with Son of the Moon, our first assignment was to read Howl and do something with it....OH! I remember! decide which poet shared his soul -- It was then that I discovered Whitman was Stinky Sr. I was, I think, one of the only people involved in that class that noted the poem Howl, was not nearly as great as everyone made it out to me. Rather boorish of me huh? but that their long dreadfully verbose and their near preachy bullshit all seemed much to much for me no matter which one of them was spewing. Pretty even more boorish huh? The first line (and perhaps first stanza) of Howl is important, the rest is a mushroom trip which we could all write should we chew some peyote or even if we have a good imagination. Even more boorishly boorish? Taking down what is considered by some the most important poem of its time? Phooey. Kristofferson's "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose" more better to me even though that a song and not a poem. Songs are kinda poems. sometimes.
The best bestest best line in here is the luck of the platypus. My God, I want to be the one who thought that.
I'm still giggling. Intellectshual. Yea yea yea, good luck in the contest, you are wunnerful and all dat.
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I can see the Fuggs performing this live in Greenwich Village to a sold out audience of dispossessed hippies and bored children of rich people. Three bunnies!
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