IN WHICH WILL BE FOUND WHAT IS SET FORTH THEREIN

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

PRODIGAL SON



Poor boy took all he had, started down the road,
Carried a four course load,
And that's no way to get along.

The D.C. flag was looking a bit rag timey as I crossed over. But I was back, rolling into town for reunion.

Nearly three decades after earning my doctorate from the George Washington University, I was back to give a lecture supplying some historical context to the poetry of the Dasein group of poets. My framework was a poem published in Burning Spear in tribute to a performance of The 'JFK' Quintet at the Bohemian Caverns.
The Caverns, built under a drug store, had started out as Club Caverns, had then crystalised, and became bohemian in time for the Beat era. The club was a burnt out shell in my day, but has now been gentrified and singularized; evidently there's only one cavern today.












Mr. Hugh was there, chief U.S. apostle of Swami Gotchyanumba.











AND I visited Howard University, scene of my first full time teaching position, to meet with Meta Jones's students, grad and undergrad. The class, as it happened, met in the same room as my last class there, just down the hall from the office I'd shared with poet Calvin Forbes. Wonderful meeting the young minds that hold the fort where I once worked -- The city has changed so much, but O brave new world / that has such people in it.


And that'll be the way to get along.

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