I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!—and you, Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier.
Ah, dear father, graybeard, 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?
I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
Read this excerpt from Allen Ginsberg’s "A Supermarket in California."Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your 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. Why does Ginsberg most likely make an allusion to Walt Whitman in this excerpt?
Read this excerpt from Walt Whitman’s poem “I Hear America Singing” from Leaves of Grass.The wood-cutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundownThe delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs. Why does Whitman most likely choose this structure for his poem?
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
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