I was going through old poems for inspiration for a creative writing class, and came across this one. I wrote it during my sophomore year for intro creative writing. I only share it with you now because it has the name Richard Brautigan in it! :)
Richard Brautigan is still drunk
inside San Francisco's tenderloin.
He is sitting in his crooked room, at his
clacking typewriter, eating
candy corn coated
in LSD.
The streets are roller coaster tracks
breeding creativity in
green gutters,
and as music slips down into
the sewer he wonders
how everyone fell
into this somber man hole,
and what they wailed
on the way down,
and did I plunge willingly?
It is early fall and
lonely poets are stuck seasick
in empty apartments,
tossing and turning with the
city's traffic
and choppy waters.
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2 comments:
Your poem is very descriptive of Brautigan's personality. Through out a majority of his poetry he is always saying something about how he hates being alone or how he is forced to be by himself. I really like the part in the poem that compares the streets of san francisco to roller coasters because it is very true. There is many ups and downs experienced by all types of people on the streets considering the small area of SF, which makes it so unique, and also the massive population.
these lines...
and as music slips down into
the sewer he wonders
how everyone fell
into this somber man hole,
and what they wailed
on the way down,
and did I plunge willingly?
make me think of RB's blend of playful/straight observation + darker reflections. The delayed timing of that "did I plunge wilingly?" is really spooky. It's a great piece.
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