Gregory Corso is still kicking the ivory applecart of tyrannical values,\" heralding the wild and keenly experienced life. Since the 1950s, when with Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and others, Corso electrified the literary establishment with what he describes as \"spontaneous subterranean poesy of the streets,\" he has fathered \"three fleshed angels,\" traveled through Europe and Egypt, seen the demise of several fellow \"Daddies of an Age,\" and now finds himself over half a century old. The lush, fervent oratory of Shelley is evident in these poems of one who may be his most ardent American heir, and the author of The Happy Birthday of Death and Elegiac Feelings American never entirely forgets that a \"leaky lifeboat\" is the mortal's only home. \"You'd think there would be chaos/the futility of it all/Yet children are born/oft times spitting images of us/ ... and the gift keeps on coming.\"Corso knows death, despair, and silence only too well, and his first major collection in eleven years is permeated with a sense of crucial choices to be made. \"Columbia U Poesy Reading - 1975\" begins with Beat history and ends with a solitary vision of God in the form of the muse: \"Seated on a cold park bench/I heard her moan: 'O Gregorio Gregorio/you'll fail me, I know/Walking away/a little old lady behind me was singing: True! True!'/'Not so!'/ rang the spirit, 'Not so!'\" In a cocky, exuberant blend of high style and down-home New Yorkese, the Herald of the Autochthonic Spirit brings more auspicious tidings. \""Gregory Corso (1930-2001) was abandoned by his mother a month after his birth at St. Vincent's Hospital in New York. Growing up in foster care and on the streets of Little Italy, Corso was a juvenile delinquent who spent time in Clinton Correctional Facility, in the cell recently vacated by gangster Lucky\" Luciano. An aspiring poet, Corso was taken under the wing of Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg, and became the youngest member of the Beat Generation's inner circle, with whom he lived and work inthe Beat Hotel, a lodging house in Paris, during the late fifties. There he created one of his signature works, \"Bomb\", a poem composed of typewritten strips of paper arranged in the shape of a mushroom cloud. Late in life, Corso became reunited with his mother and maintained a close relationship with her until his death.\""22.95 | Herald Of The Autochthonic Spirit, Paperback | Indigo Chapters