It’s sometimes interesting to look at poetry through the lens of history. Copyright © 1956, 2006 by Allen Ginsberg, LLC, used by permission of The Wylie Agency LLC. In my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway acrossĪmerica in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western nightįrom "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg, from Collected Poems: 1947-1997 by Allen Ginsberg. O starry-spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory Illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run outside Roaring over the roof they’ve come to drop angelic bombs the hospital Where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls’ airplanes United States that coughs all night and won’t let us sleep Where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the Where there are twentyfive thousand mad comrades all together singing
Where you will split the heavens of Long Island and resurrect your living Revolution against the fascist national Golgotha Where you accuse your doctors of insanity and plot the Hebrew socialist
Where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from It should never die ungodly in an armed madhouse Where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal Where you scream in a straightjacket that you’re losing the game of the Where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the harpies of the Bronx Where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Utica
Where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses Where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio
Where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter Where you’ve murdered your twelve secretaries Howl, Part III Carl Solomon! I’m with you in Rockland
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