Wednesday, October 21, 2009


Our school has a literary magazine called Aphros, where students get poems and short stories and pictures of their artwork published. I had no idea this existed until I was working the booth for Writing Center Awareness Week (people walking by only noticed the candy we gave out) and I became addicted to reading other students' work. I might submit my "Tag Team" inspired by Ginsberg thing, but I'm not sure if it's a poem or prose or what. I write like this a lot. It isn't poetry; it doesn't really have stanzas, but it has short paragraph-type things that eventually taper into one or two lines.

I've edited it a little... I added more lines that reference Ginsberg from the original "America" and sprinkled in some Buddhist thought. Note the balloon boy reference as well. Haha!

Tag Team- inspired by the Beats

America he gave you all and he became nothing.
America when will we be told the real truths? When will you stop these nervous breakdowns over the newest fad catastrophe?
When will your people, and the other people, become capable of selflessness? What, even, is selflessness? What is there to care for, to listen to above the incessant murmur from your weary citizens? They care, but often for the wrong things. Perhaps I care about the wrong things too. How can we even be sure? America when can we appreciate the Beats without sending accusations flying about insincerity? Where is Kerouac when we need him?

We seek to become nothing.

America I grow nervous, not tired. Is this your intention? With the fumes of the Times the poisonous blogs and your noxious CNN? Pandemics and rages and who blew up, flew up into the sky this week. It's the impression we get. This is your second letter, America, to my knowledge, and you failed to listen when Ginsberg first wailed a lonely howl to your polluted sky.

Nothing, he learned, is all we can be.

America I could boycott your food and hurt only myself. America I could boycott your culture and nothing would change. America if I boycott my native country I shall end up on a boat slowly going insane like the man who already did that once in revolutionary era. Wasn't that a Vonnegut?

There is no chase: strive for nothing. It's all we can do.

America why didn't you listen to Ginsberg?

Dharma Bums is my favoritest.


laurenlorraine said...

I love it. I would call it poetry, personally.

Either way, it's brilliant.

Kate said...

You're the sweetest ever! It's not even. It's silliness.