The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Poets are both clean and warm
And most are far above the norm
Whether here or on the roam
Have a poet in every home! #40

John Berryman


swac said...

Sad to say, I only just got the title of this series last night while staring at the penguin on the telly.

Who Am Us Anyway? said...

"Bukowski was a jerk; Berryman was best! He wrote like wet papier mache, went the Heming-way, weirdly on wings and with maximum pain: We call upon the author to explain!" -- We Call Upon the Author, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.

"The devil and john berryman took a walk together they ended up on washington talking to the river" – Stuck Between Stations, The Hold Steady.