My God--glass, my townspeople! For what purpose? Is it for the dead to look out or for us to see how well he is housed or to see the flowers or the lack of them-- or what? To keep the rain and snow from him? He will have a heavier rain soon: pebbles and dirt and what not.
Let there be no glass-- and no upholstery, phew! A rough plain hearse then with gilt wheels and no top at all. On this the coffin lies by its own weight. No wreaths please-- especially no hot house flowers. Some common memento is better, something he prized and is known by: his old clothes--a few books perhaps-- God knows what!
You realize how we are about these things my townspeople-- something will be found--anything even flowers if he had come to that. So much for the hearse. For heaven's sake though see to the driver! Take off the silk hat! In fact that's no place at all for him-- up there unceremoniously dragging our friend out to his own dignity!
Much has been discussed about the pros and cons of this method, and some have examined about whether "free verse" is poetry at all. William married Flossie Florence Herman in and by fall they had two boys. Kathleen in line two refers to Kathleen McBride , the Williams' orphan nanny. Al Que Quiere! Williams sought to invent an entirely fresh--and singularly American--poetic, whose subject matter was centered on the everyday circumstances of life and the lives of common people.
His influence as a poet spread slowly during the twenties and thirties, overshadowed, he felt, by the immense popularity of Eliot's " The Waste Land "; however, his work received increasing attention in the s and s as younger poets, including Allen Ginsberg and the Beats , were impressed by the accessibility of his language and his openness as a mentor.
Hurling himself from the typewriter frame onto a key and forcing it down archy typed his words out. Unable to use the shift key at the same time all his poems were in lower case.
Though his career was initially overshadowed by other poets, he became an inspiration to the Beat generation in the s and 60s. See More By This Poet. To Elsie The pure products of America go crazy— mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey with its isolate lakes and valleys, its deaf-mutes, thieves old names and promiscuity between devil-may-care men who have taken to railroading out of sheer lust of adventure— and young slatterns, bathed in filth from Monday to Mi Casa When I was a boy I was either a child eating bugs or a child being eaten by bugs, but now that I am older am I a man who devours the world or am I a man being devoured by the world?
There is a greater pressure than ever to perform like a machine, look like an Olympian, and keep a stiff upper lip despite the circumstances. I passionately disagree with these traditional male expectations, and feel that the entire portrayal of men as needing to be financially successful, promiscuous, and carved out of granite is complete bullshit. These are the ideals that Williams battles in front of his mirror, and ultimately scoffs.
What makes a man?
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