I found this treasure by chance… Pull my Daisy by Kerouac and Ginsberg
I picked up Howl by Allen Ginsberg in a bookshop in York and read it with fresh eyes as the line breaks were different from those in my Norton Anthology. Somehow the charge (mentioned in my first post) really hit me, went through me like lightening, re reading these lines as they are here below.. can’t explain.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
starving, hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking
for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connec-
tion to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high up sat up
smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold water flats
floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz.
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Moham-
medan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallu
cinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the
scholars of war,
Blake-light tragedy really got to me… conjuring in three words the injustice, peril, horror in Blakes poetry, the stark chiaroscuro of his paintings.
The Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve circa 1826 by William Blake