Wine and Cheese Punk Rock

“Profane and prophetic verses about sex, death, revolution and America by the great icon of Beat poetry.” This is the attract blurb on the back of Penguin Modern 02 – Television Was a Baby Crawling Toward that Deathchamber. I had never heard of Allen Ginsberg before finding the book. I had no idea what to expect. What is Beat poetry? The only mental image I had of the Beat era was Ned Flanders’ parents. After reading these thirteen poems, I started seeing the words through a more familiar lens. Beat poetry is punk rock for the literari.

The first connection I noticed linked Allen Ginsberg with GG Allin. Aside from the similarities of names, both men seem to be comfortable with feces. I was expecting something from Beat poetry, but it wasn’t so much poop. GG Allin was notorious for all sorts of extreme behavior, especially crapping on stage. Ginsberg treats his dumps with more respect. Some of his American Sentences 1995-1997 reference the joys of pooping as septuagenarian. I can imagine one of the worst indignities of old age is the inability to use the toilet without assistance.

Sitting forward elbows on knees, oh what luck! to be able to crap!
-American Sentences, April 17, 1995

Poop is not the only content connecting Ginsberg and punk rock. Ginsbergs poems seem like strings of consciousness, raw outbursts of emotion. This is most evident in Television Was a Baby Crawling Toward that Deathchamber. It is a long piece bouncing from one idea to another in a litany of abuses towards society and power structures. Ginsberg had a lot of negative energy to excise through his writing. Every poem is a middle-finger to uptight conformity. The soul of punk rock is political, anti-establishment, and non-conformist. Many of Ginsberg’s lines would fit on on Dead Kennedy’s record.

America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
-America

The form of Ginsberg’s work unites it with punk as well. I struggle with poetry that does not have an obvious flow. Pull my Daisy and Love Comes are the only poems in this collection with easily understood rhythms. The other works do not come off the page as easily. This is similar to many punk songs which look like they should not work. ...And Out Come the Wolves by Rancid is one of my favorite albums but simply reading the lyrics is a travesty. They need to be heard to be appreciated, much like some of these Beat poems.

 "Why even bother?" and I picked up a bottle
Mr. bus driver, please let these people on
Rude girl Carol was a mini-skirt girl
My blurry vision saw nothin' wrong
-Roots Radical

I am on a mission to better understand and enjoy poetry of any form. In my life, poetry undiscovered literary landscape. I know so little about non-prose writing that I need mental handrails, else I’ll be flailing around like a toddler in a pool. Associating Beat poetry with punk rock was a eureka moment for me.