Howl for Malcolm Forsmark
For Malcom Forsmark
(Because Allen Ginsberg wrote Howl for Carl Solomon.)
“It is the belief in the art of poetry that has gone hand in hand with this man into his Golgotha, from that charnel house, similar in every way, to that of the Jews in the past war. But this is in our own country, our own fondest purlieus. We are blind and live our blind lives out in blindness. Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of the angels.”
William Carlos Williams, from Allen Ginsberg, Howl, City Lights, San Francisco, 1959.
I realize now that the multiverse nudged me to contemplate Moloch, as I watched several YouTube documentaries about the Bohemian Grove.
I finally ended reading Shakespeare‘s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act II, scene 2, “Weaving spiders, come not here!”
For the crux of Ginsberg’s Howl is this excerpt from the midpoint of part II, the literal halfway point of the poem:
“Moloch whose name is the Mind!” Read the rest of this entry »