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Date Posted: 16:52:15 06/06/01 Wed
Author: jess-lane
Subject: I've been doing a paper on Beat poets, its all interesting, i want to share...

here's a poem by Allen Ginsberg, i like this stuff... i wish i weren't in debt to the library or i'd take out some books...


"A Supermarket in California"

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt
Whitman, for I have walked down the sidestreets
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 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 question of each: Who killed
the pork chops? What price bananas? Are
you my Angel?
I wandered in an 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 you 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 out silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, greybeard, 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?

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