Allen Ginsberg 1926 - 1997
Copyright 2007 Red Pulp Underground

Allen Ginsberg 1926 - 1997

American poet and diarist, highly visible with Jack
Kerouac and William Burroughs in the beat
generation literary movement, that burst into
prominence in the 1950s. Ginsberg's poem
HOWL (1956) is considered to be one of the
most significant products of that movement.
However, before the radical work he underwent a
long apprenticeship in traditional rhymed and
metered lyrics.

Before devoting himself entirely to poetry,
Ginsberg worked for a short time for Newsweek
and as a market research consultant in New York
and San Francisco (1951-53). In San Francisco
Ginsberg took a room near Lawrence
Ferlinghetti's bookstore and started to compose
Howl!. William Carlos Williams, his mentor,
claimed that Ginsberg had finally found his voice.
Howl! gained immediate fame in 1955 at a poetry
reading at the Six Gallery in San Francisco. The
poem was published by Lawrence Ferlinghetti's
City Light Press, with a foreword by Williams:
"Hold back the edges of your gowns, Ladies, we
are going through hell." The police seized the
entirely printing on the grounds of obscenity:
Ginsberg's loudly declared homosexuality was
explicitly expressed in the book. The matter went
to trial and Ginsberg used his fame in the
publication of Kerouac's On the Road (1957) and
Burroughs's  Naked Lunch (1959).

Howl! is a long, free-verse poem, reminiscent of
Walt Whitman and influenced by the American
Trancendentalists. It exemplifies Ginsberg's
poetics of spontaneous composition with
attention paid to the natural wanderings of the
mind and the rhythms of breathing. "All you have
to do," Ginsberg once said, "is think of anything
that comes into your head, then arrange in lines
of two, three or four words each, don't bother
about sentences, in sections of two, three or four
lines each." From the beginning, the work was
designated to be read aloud. Howl! became one
of the symbols of the liberation of American
culture in the 1950s from an academic formalism
and political conservatism. Influenced by the
mysticism and poetics of Blake, Howl! celebrated
and lamented with Old Testament rhythms the
casualties of capitalism and consumer society,
and in particular the lives of bohemians, his
friends. The final part, 'Footnote to Howl' is a
hymn of praise: because of human love, the
world is holy, despite the nightmare.

Howl! is much too long to post here but you may
find it on the internet.  
Red Pulp Underground
A Supermarket in California

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the
streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.

In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit
supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles
full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes! --- and you,
Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?
I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the
meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price
bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and
followed in my imagination by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting
artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier.
Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does
your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel
absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to
shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in
driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you
have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and
stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?

Homework

Homage to Kenneth Koch

If I were doing my Laundry I'd wash my dirty Iran
I'd throw in my United States, and pour on the Ivory Soap,
scrub up Africa, put all the birds and elephants back in
the jungle,
I'd wash the Amazon river and clean the oily Carib & Gulf of Mexico,
Rub that smog off the North Pole, wipe up all the pipelines in Alaska,
Rub a dub dub for Rocky Flats and Los Alamos, Flush that sparkly
Cesium out of Love Canal
Rinse down the Acid Rain over the Parthenon & Sphinx, Drain the Sludge
out of the Mediterranean basin & make it azure again,
Put some blueing back into the sky over the Rhine, bleach the little
Clouds so snow return white as snow,
Cleanse the Hudson Thames & Neckar, Drain the Suds out of Lake Erie
Then I'd throw big Asia in one giant Load & wash out the blood &
Agent Orange,
Dump the whole mess of Russia and China in the wringer, squeeze out
the tattletail Gray of U.S. Central American police state,
& put the planet in the drier & let it sit 20 minutes or an
Aeon till it came out clean