Poetry Exercise #2: A Supermarket in California

A Supermarket in California

Allen Ginsberg, 1926 - 1997

 

  What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, 

        for I walked down the sidestreets under the 

        trees with a headache self-conscious looking 

        at the full moon.

  In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I 

        went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming 

        of your enumerations!

  What peaches and what penumbras!  Whole families 

        shopping at night!  Aisles full of husbands! 

        Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--

        and you, García Lorca, what were you doing down 

        by the watermelons?

  I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, 

        poking among the meats in the refrigerator and 

        eyeing the grocery boys.

  I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the 

        pork chops?  What price bananas?  Are you my Angel?

  I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans 

        following you, and followed in my imagination by 

        the store detective.

  We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary 

        fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen 

        delicacy, and never passing the cashier.

  Where are we going, Walt Whitman?  The doors close in a 

        hour.  Which way does your beard point tonight?

 (I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the 

        supermarket and feel absurd.)

  Will we walk all night through solitary streets?  The 

        trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, 

        we’ll both be lonely.

  Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past 

        blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent 

        cottage?

  Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, 

        what America did you have when Charon quit poling his 

        ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood 

        watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?

--Berkeley, 1955

Write a poem with very long lines and lots of alliteration, assonance, and consonance but no rhyme scheme. Write the poem to someone whom you've never met but who has influenced you in some significant way. Pretend you're speaking to them while both of you are in a place that is familiar to you. Include lots of vivid, suggestive imagery. Use the person's name in the poem. Ask them questions.  

This exercise is adapted from Sleeping on the Wing, written by Kenneth Koch and Kate Farrell.