Brautigan

I love the Beat writers and poets.

I've always hesitated to gush in fear of pushback from serious folk with their "we don't need your goofy hippie shit at our great works panel discussion."

Not gonna be coy about it anymore. I love Kerouac, I love Ferlinghetti, and I love Richard Brautigan. Allen Ginsberg, um...ok back to Brautigan.

I recently read Trout Fishing in America, and am now deep into the poetry collection, The Pill versus the Springhill Mine Disaster. Ok, maybe Brautigan is kind of goofy at times but you only get to say that if you can first recognize how absolutely brilliant he is.

Here's the one everyone knows. I'll leave off the title to let the ending have its full force.

I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky.

I like to think
    (right now please!)
of a cybernetic forest
filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully
past computers
as if they were flowers
with spinning blossoms.

I like to think
    (it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors
and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal
brothers and sisters,
and all watched over
by machines of loving grace.