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Click hereI shook hands – oh god – with Allen Ginsberg
in 1978 in Colorado.
Large, bald man, he gave a reading there,
timed to please participating shadow.
Into the poem, into the throbbing air,
the scratched Titanic sank before the iceberg.
Drums: he had us pound feet on the floor,
in a little church, perhaps somewhere near Boulder.
“This is the rhythm. Please, a little more…”
… wooden thuds, by which we all knew truth,
and its antithesis, this growing older,
this distancing ourselves from fame and youth.
~
but I stopped short at 'scratched the Titanic'. Wow! Subtlety isn't the word I want but I am losing my words these days. What is a scratch? Nothing. We wipe at it and forget it, if we even gave it any thought at all. What is the Titanic? One of the greatest losses of humanity in modern history. That phrase- to my unschooled mind is just brilliant! Thank you so much. I will never forget it.
This poem has a deep earthiness and reality to it that is well suited to its topic as well as being an appeal all its own. The strong, heavy concreteness of the Titanic, the pews, the thumping feet give this poem an immediacy and power that are enviable. It's very difficult to make a poem of admiration or celebration feel grounded, and this succeeds admirably.
I add this final praise - this poem caught my eye, actually, because I hate Alan Ginsberg. It would be difficult for my opinion of him to be any lower. But through this poem, I could see some good in him. That takes a great deal of doing, for me. It made me want to be there, and not just to throw bricks at him ;)
an unusual topic, handled well. For a moment in time, I was there, stamping my feet!
Your Poem was mentioned on the thread
'New Poems Reviews'
thanks for the journey~