Word: poems
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...poems he read were from The Spring Hill Mine Disaster Versus the Pill or Trout Fishing in America, Brautigan's two major collections. Most of the poems hadn't been published. Few were longer than three or four lines. One poem, with a complex/compound sentence as its title, was one word long...
...read them in quick succession with an urgent, almost feminine sing-song. He stepped back from the mike for just a second after each one, flashing a sly twinkle or a sheepish shrug as the poem demanded. The crowd loved the shrugs: each one said, What the hell, sounds good, don't it? The boyishness of his manner-you got the idea that the whole role of the Coming Poet strikes him as outrageously funny-endeared him to the audience. They liked him because he is profound, but they loved him be he thinks...
...poetry? Even without fully understanding the question, I could sympathize with a negative answer. Brautigan's two-and three-and four-liners are hip-pithy kernels of experiential truth. This is his uncrazy lucidity. His simpleness is so skillful that he evoked an audible response with each poem: laugher, knowing chuckles, or almost pained gasps. He maneuvered the crowd with alternating gentle satire and bitter cynicism...
...first week in October, and Richard Tillinghast was in Cambridge to give a reading. He had lived here for several years while writing his thesis on Robert Lowell, and then had moved out to Berkeley. Now he looked like he was from California. That night he read some poems which had appeared in the San Francisco Oracle, talked a lot about a book written by an Indian, Black Elk, and then a drug poem called "STP." There was a party at the House afterwards. Someone had brought a record player and the music was really loud. People were dancing beneath...
...Cambridge one Saturday last spring. He wasn't giving a reading, no poetry conferences had been proposed; he was simply visiting friends. He spent the afternoon in the Grolier Bookshop and the Bick, and the evening in an apartment on Beacon Hill, reading from a long unpublished poem to an audience of four...