Coincidance - Principia Discordia

COINCIDANCE 83
the rhythm the rhythm:" these lines syncopate beautifully, and the internal
phrase, "reading the Kaddish aloud" picks up on the initial "Strange now to
think of you." Allen Ginsberg sifts through the resources of American
English like a placer miner going through his dust, carefully lifting out a
nugget at a time.
Once he has found what he's looking for, he hammers it out with the
remorseless monotony of Beethoven, or perhaps I should say of Bizet in the
Arlesienne Suite. Kaddish moves towards its close through a hymn to the God
who allowed the poet's mother to go mad:
In the house in Newark Blessed is He! In the
madhouse Blessed is He! In the house of
Death blessed is He!
Even the tragedy of the poor old woman is blessed:
Blessed be you Naomi in Hospitals! Blessed be you
Naomi in solitude! Blest be your triumph! Blest
be your bars! Blest be your last years' loneliness!
But an even stronger rhythm breaks in to mourn the all-too-true truth
that there is nothing blessed, only pain, in the story of Naomi Ginsberg:
only to have seen her weeping on gray tables in long wards of her universe
only to have known the wierd ideas of Hitler at the door . . .
only to have seen the time-jumps, memory lapse, the crash of wars, the
roar and silence of a vast electric shock
and the reality, the lack of blessing and triumph, is therupon hammered like
Pound's rock-drill till it almost bursts the reader's brain:
with your eyes running naked out of the apartment screaming into the hall
with your eyes being led away by policemen to an ambulance
with your eyes strapped down on the operating table
with your eyes of the pancreas removed
with your eyes of appendix operation
with your eyes of abortion
with your eyes of shock
with your eyes of lobotomy
The theme beats into the soui like a drum:
with your eyes
with your eyes
-artd then suddenly turns around on itself and bursts forth into a line of
sheer genius: