“lonely old courage-teacher”

31 May 2025: 

“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?” –Allen Ginsberg’s closing line to “A Supermarket in California”

Like every year when we reach May 31, I find myself thinking about Whitman. This year, with everything that he loved about America under attack, I find myself voicing the least poetic and almost embarrassing echo of Allen Ginsberg’s “A Supermarket in California.” 

This could not have been the America Whitman had in mind when he took his last breath. The ignorance, hate, and cruelty can bring you to your knees with sadness. (And here I think of the bowed knees in "The Wound Dresser," an symbol of devastation, exhaustion, and deepest pain, but also respect, holiness, humility, and servitude.)

And here I see that maybe I am wrong or at least not completely right—and here I contradict myself, I guess—because he also would see a lot to love and so many to root for. On a quiet Saturday night, my mind fills with images of those who give me faith and hope, even if they sit alongside all of what makes me despair. 

Our “lonely old courage-teacher” is more important than ever. 

Whitman on the brain...

28 November 2018: Even more than on a normal day, Walt was on my mind today. First, we talked about "A Supermarket in California" in my 204 classes. Then this evening, a student I've been working with on her capstone project on Whitman and Hamilton had her presentation. She quoted some of these lines from "Song of Myself," which will serve quite well for today's post:

"I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars,
And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren,
And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest,
And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven,
And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,
And the cow crunching with depress'd head surpasses any statue,
And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels."

Wives in the Avocados

The latest episode of the "Poetry Off the Shelf" podcast is pretty terrific. Marjorie Perloff and Curtis Fox discuss "A Supermarket in California." It's a poem I know well and love. Give it a listen.