Allen Ginsberg Is A Tremendous Warrior As

He's The Sort Of Guy That Gets A Laugh Out Of People.

His Whole Body Shakes With The Strain As He Tries To Lift Something He Knows He Can't Lift, Something Everybody Knows He Can't Lift. But, For Just A Second, When We Hear The Cement Grind At Our Feet, We Think, By Golly, He Might Do It.

I Been Silent So Long Now It’s Gonna Roar Out Of Me Like Floodwaters And You Think The Guy Telling This Is Ranting And Raving My God; You Think This Is Too Horrible To Have Really Happened, This Is Too Awful To Be The Truth! But, Please. It’s Still Hard For Me To Have A Clear Mind Thinking On It. But It’s The Truth Even If It Didn’t Happen.

But If The Strength Ain't Real, I Recall Thinking The Very Last Thing That Day, Before I Finally Passed Out, Then The Weakness Sure Enough Is. Weakness Is True And Real. I Used To Accuse The Kid Of Faking His Weakness. But Faking Proves The Weakness Is Real. Or You Wouldn't Be So Weak As To Fake It. No, You Can't Ever Fake Being Weak. You Can Only Fake Being Strong. . .

Luckily, I Remembered Something Malcolm Cowley Had Taught Us At Stanford - Perhaps The Most Important Lesson A Writing Class (not A Writer, Understand, But A Class) Can Ever Learn. 'be Gentle With One Another's Efforts,' He Often Admonished Us. 'be Kind And Considerate With Your Criticism. Always Remember That It's Just As Hard To Write A Bad Book As It Is To Write A Good Book.'