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It is rapture-like, though it fall short of being rapturous, which is why I like it. Something is coming.
Last night after I read it for the first time I wrote: No doubt due largely to my most recent dive into Ginsberg's poetry, this poem, aided by its prose format, has a similar rush of language and imagery, as if being seen speeding by out a car window. Ginsberg's poetry always seems to be on the trail to transcendence but never fails to affect me with its brokenness. In a strange way, Ginsberg was an impotent poet in my eyes. It never gave me hope. It's only message to me was despair in a material/capitalist society. His poetry leaves me cold and stunned. I always come back for more.
Your poem feels like it's tracking the same state of transcendence. I love the rhythm established by the commas. I especially like the confluence of images that Cameron mentions that become a vision. I like the Ginsbergian rush of language that struggles to keep up with thought. I'll come back.
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