Allen Ginsberg — "I don't do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision."
I don't do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision.
I don't do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision.
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"who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,"
"The best poems are not written, they're ejaculated."
"I had a moment of clarity, saw the feeling in the heart of things, walked out to the garden crying."
"Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars!"
"To gain your own voice, forget about having it heard. Become a saint of your own province and your own consciousness."
American Beat poet whose Howl (1956) faced an obscenity trial and became a counterculture manifesto. Closely associated with Jack Kerouac (Beat novelist, On the Road) and William S. Burroughs (fellow Beat, Naked Lunch). For an intellectual contrast, see T.S. Eliot, high-modernist poet of The Waste Land — Ginsberg's open-line confessional Beat verse was a deliberate rejection of Eliot's allusive academic formalism — the two halves of mid-century American poetry.
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