On Ginsberg's America,6th Part Poem by Whitney Jones Olson

On Ginsberg's America,6th Part



Shelter me free in my aberrations, America.
Let me consume in the fleshes of your brilliant tortured boys;
Let me revel in the pirouettes of your naïve moonlit girls;
Indulge me these, America.
In churches, synagogues, mosques, temples,
Nameless eclipsed fields,
Holy refuges of the upstanding,
On my laurels, tense, above,
Those graves of stoics we…have loved.
In buses, haylofts, boxcars, truck beds,
Novel roadside diversions,
Holy refuges of the pariah,
On my knees sobbing, ecstatic, with,
The images of memories we…have known.
Preserve me these, America.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Paul the Lion 11 May 2006

Reading all six parts of a poem such as this one make me, though a juvenile feeling it may well indeed be, yearn for an era and place like the 1950's San Francisco beat scene, when it was actually considered more hip to be an intellectual prose-poet as opposed to being a dedicated viewer of 'I Love Lucy.' Maybe if all kids my age read literature such as this instead of watching 'American Idol, ' we wouldn't be a nation where the majority of us are hedonistic idiots. Very far out poem, Mrs. Olson.

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