Forgotten Gems: The Poetic Legacy of Gregory Corso

Gregory Corso in Paris 1957. Photo by Harold Chapman

“My music is built in—it’s already natural. I don’t play with the meter.” – Gregory Corso

Gregory Corso, a name often overlooked in the annals of American poetry, remains an essential figure within the Beat Generation, a literary movement that defined a significant part of mid-20th-century American culture. Corso’s poetic legacy, while not as widely celebrated as some of his contemporaries, offers a rich tapestry of emotion, intellectual depth, and cultural commentary that continues to resonate with readers today.

Born in New York City on March 26, 1930, Gregory Corso led a tumultuous life that was reflected in his vibrant and raw poetry. His work, steeped in personal experience and societal observation, resonated with the ethos of the Beat Generation and thus, he became an integral part of it. Alongside other luminaries such as Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg, Corso pushed the boundaries of poetic expression with unapologetic authenticity.

Corso’s poetry is marked by its visceral and candid exploration of life’s complexities. His works such as Gasoline and The Happy Birthday of Death reflect a unique blend of dark humor, existential musings, and poignant insights into the human condition. His words often danced on the edge of despair and hope, capturing a raw essence of life that was both unsettling and compelling.

Despite his profound contributions to American literature, Gregory Corso remains an unsung hero within the wider cultural consciousness. His poetic legacy is a testament to his creative genius and his unique perspective on life. It is time we revisited the forgotten gems of this influential figure in American poetry, for there is much to be discovered and appreciated in his body of work. The legacy of Gregory Corso serves as a reminder of the power of poetry to capture the depth and diversity of human experience.

Humanity

What simple profundities
What profound simplicities
To sit down among the trees
and breathe with them
in murmur brool and breeze —

And how can I trust them
who pollute the sky
with heavens
the below with hells

Well, humankind,
I’m part of you
and so my son

but neither of us
will believe
your big sad lie

-Gregory Corso

Curated by Jennifer

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