Ginsberg in Grimsby

[dillingworth]

Sorry for posting several poems in a short space of time. I hope I've critiqued enough poems in the last couple of days to excuse myself. I should point out with this one that I don't have anything against Grimsby...

Ginsberg in Grimsby

What hideous night-trawler from the waters of wickedness dredged up their hopes and left them gasping gilless on the dockside?

Grimsby! Despondency! Idleness! Emptiness! Buses leaden-labouring down interminable streets! Flaccid chip newspapers blowing in the gutters! Children wailing a dirge in the supermarkets!

Grimsby! Grimsby! Nightmare of Grimsby! Grimsby the great unwashed! Grimsby the sea-soaked salt-encrusted whore! Godforsaken Grimsby! Grimsby the fish-stinking hermit! Grimsby the mud-flatted outpost of loneliness!

Grimsby the labyrinth of lovelessness! Grimsby the stinking halituous horror of the Humber! Grimsby the endless boulevard of boredom!

Grimsby whose flood sirens scream a threnody! Grimsby whose streets are paved with indifference! Grimsby whose rivers are poisoned with pointlessness! Grimsby whose roads lead only to ruin!

Grimsby whose grimbarbarians tussle and tumble in the streets! Grimsby whose song of the lost never comes to an end and is played on a splintered fiddle! Grimsby whose rusty wrecks reign from improvised thrones of brick! Grimsby whose driveways are wildernesses where mattresses come to die!

Grimsby whose dole-queues stretch into infinity! Grimsby whose shops are frozen warehouses of want! Grimsby whose feet are made of clay! Grimsby whose head is filled with poverty and pornography!

Grimsby whose destination is deathlessness! Grimsby whose religion is indolence! Grimsby whose end is oblivion!

Grimsby in whom I am witless! Grimsby in whom the tyrannous wind is king! Grime-sodden in Grimsby! Comatose and crapulous in Grimsby! Intemperate and impotent in Grimsby!

Grimsby! Grimsby! Squirreling dervishes! Devouring omnisexuals! Primordial anarchists! Cock-wielding communists! Fetishized unionists!

Grimsby the raving Nebuchadnezzar of the North! Grimsby the aerosol-brandishing hand of God! Grimsby in whom I have been weighed and found wanting!

Visions! Infernos! Requiems! Fevers! False flames and night terrors! Drive them all down the street to the docks! Cast them onto the mud flats and into the water! Watch them ooze down the river and into the sea! Down with them! Down with them! Topple the great god Grimsby in his temple!

Grimsby is dead! We have killed him!

http://www.poetryarchive.org/poetryarch ... oemId=1550

[brianedwards]

Fun. Isn't parodying AG a good way to to grease the cogs of creativity? Were I a Doctor of poets, I would prescribe such exercises at least once a month.

I now await the real fruits of this exercise to emerge.

B.

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