This line sounds to me as if it's referencing the plaguing nature of drug use, particularly heroin use. With the juxtaposition against purgatory, however, I think there is a glimpse of hope as Ginsberg implies that those "who ate fire" may feel doomed but they are certainly not damned.

Ginsberg uses this stanza to shift focus onto different aspects of American infrastructure. "Demonic industries" is particularly interesting and attention grabbing, and likely implies exactly what it sounds like. In addition to this, and following the logic that these two lines are about U.S. systems and infrastructure, "madhouses" and "cocks" seem less like unintelligible gibberish.

I would assume that this is mainly a reference to World War II and the Korean war; however, Ginsberg is all but predicting the Vietnam war in these two stanzas. The greed signified in "Unobtainable dollars" would only be amplified in coming wars, as would be the "boys sobbing in armies".

The way the speakers voice itself changes opinions, as if the speaker themself is also still interpreting and visualizing the man dancings, lends a quality of "nowness" to the poem.

The lack of punctuation in this poem causes it to be read at a breakneck pace and creates a very stream-of-consciousness type flow.

An allusion to socialist leanings?

The choppy phrasing of the poem lends it a musical quality.

Reminiscent of the "Thousand Yard Stare" signifying PTSD.

The act of sitting and sewing as well as all of its implications about what it means to be a black women in America have taken on an almost Sisyphean quality to them.

Much of the black music of the Jim Crow era was never recorded and is now in fact lost to history.

Like many oppressed groups do, Bennett seems to find solace in reclaiming the supposedly "heathen" side of herself, a pre-colonial-self.

Bennett seems to be pointing to a form of strong, subtle resilience.

I can't help but wonder about the significance of Waco and Rome in this line.

In the delta blues, the sun never rises.

Much like the blues and jazz that has influenced this poem, Brown incorporates the southern regional vernacular and respective spelling with a mesmerizing result.

With this line of the poem having the highest word count as well as existing in a standalone stanza, it acts almost like a subtitle or a thesis question for the poem.

Once again, Hughes is playing with recurring themes and motifs of the blues genre. Wanting to die and wishing you were dead are, regardless of their almost shocking morbidity, very common refrains in blues music.

I think Hughes was playing with a variation on a theme here. "Aint got _" is one of my favorite recurring motifs within blues music.

Both this stanza of the poem and Eugene Higgins' painting convey a truly bleak depiction the nature of being incarcerated. The painting even looks like it was painted with the "filth" that the poem references.

Walt Kuhn's Morning depicts a nostalgic, pastoral scene in a very dreamy light. Considering Kuhn grew up in Brooklyn, not too far from Paterson, NJ, where Williams was raised, this scene in particular seems as though it may have been the type of thing to influence both men.

Apparently all 300 species of plant that exist under the delphinium genus are poisonous to mammals.

"The lever and the spade" being tools for mathematics and labor, respectively. Seems like a warning against getting lost within the rat race of humanity.

She lists the ways in which love lacks any kind of medicinal quality before contradicting the sentiment as a whole. If love truly had no healing properties, then why are people dying without it?

Some holy trinity.

The general thematic tone really reminds me of the work of William Blake, not only with the use of esoteric language such as "thither" but also the way the speaker makes profound insights from observing animals.

Definitely about the nature of death; however I think that the mantra-like repetition is reinforcing the speaker's will to live rather than symbolizing his death.

Do poets knowingly retread the same thematic ground? Or is there something to human nature in which it can ultimately be reduced to a handful of meaningful poems?

Reminds me of the adage one only really dies when their name is spoken for the last time. Creation and art certainly inspire a sense of immortality, and it is a tragedy to rob an artist of that sense.

The poem is very self-aware of its own nature and the genre it exists in, and frequently calls attention to itself.

It almost seems like the kind of cognitive shift that occurs when one under the influence of psychedelic drugs undergoes ego death.

She uses such out of place adjectives to describe the house, and I am particularly struck by the mixing of sensory descriptors, such as this or when she describes the "smell" of the house.

So she is told that there is nothing wrong with her yet she must take medication? That's the reddest of red flags I've ever heard of.

Pretty impressive that his interest intros particular field of science and engineering is driven almost purely by cynicism. Mad respect.

This statement sums up the disconnect between the arts/humanities and the sciences, as if the two have to burials for some unspoken reason.

Adams uses the word "force" three times in this paragraph alone, first in a physical context referring to energy and second in reference to morality. This third and final usage of the word seems to have blended the connotations the word, adding to the divine way in which Adams and Langley view the dynamo.

Philip Levine once said: "...for the first time I saw myself in the now ruined neighborhoods of my growing up not as the rebel poet but as what I was, middle-aged, middle-class, and as one writer of the time would have put it 'part of the problem.'"

The self-awareness of Levine and of the poem seem especially relevant in the wake of 2020's powerful protests.

This might be my favorite line in any piece of prose ever. I have a good amount of family in Michigan and Detroit, and they also seem fond of this phrase. I'm sure there is a better interpretation out there, but this line struck me as an expression of pride from a notable take-no-shit city.

With all of the work site and petroleum-based imagery, it is immediately apparent that the "Lion" is fed by the working class, the laborers of the city. Knowing that Levine was a native of Detroit, I think that he is implying that it is these qualities that give the city its soul.

Bone china is an often forgotten type of porcelain with a much more inherently unsettling composition process than any other type of decorative glassware. Using bone ash, a white material produced as a byproduct of the calcination of bones, as its main ingredient, bone china is highly regarded amongst fanatics of porcelain. It has a whiter whiteness and is much more resistant to damage or chipping as it is the strongest form of porcelain.

This sequence of lines stands out from the rest of the poem. As these lines conjure an image of some kind of massacre, some kind of incident leaving behind an unbelievable body count in its wake, the diction conveys an image of someone hiding amongst the bodies, playing possum to preserve their own life.

(http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20130712-genetic-portraits-of-families)

Familial relationships offer such a bizarre insight into one's future. One can make inferences into both how their appearance may change as they age, as well as how one's behavior and attitude may change over time. I myself vividly remember the day when I realized I would most likely begin to go gray in my mid to late twenties from the example of my father. The high blood pressure would come later.

For anyone to realize that they have a look alike, biological or otherwise, there is a certain shattering of self-perception, possibly followed by the realization that there is a formula at work, a limited amount of features sent into a genetic algorithm that aligns these traits into a specific combination. Still, there is an errily odd feeling present when looking into the eyes of someone who looks like you and getting a glimpse into the past, present, and future.

(https://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/what-happens-die-brain-activity-life-heart-beating-death-after-eeg-study-research-a7620131.html)

Death is of course the greatest mystery that humankind will never be allowed to solve. As is made clear by this article from The Independent, there are still numerous neurological anomalies revolving around death, for which modern science has yet to come to a verdict on. Anomalies such as the posthumous continuation of brain activity transcend science and manage to perplex the human mind; we have no way of remotely comprehending what our brains are doing after we have died. If this writer may go out on a very large limb, this activity may at least be a link to why someone's life would flash before their eyes preceding death. Perhaps the brain releases every endorphin, every memory, every dream, every synapse firing in an attempt of one final grande boeuf before heading into the void.

"And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness."

Genesis 1:3

Norman Rockwell's famous "Freedom from Want" painting depicts a family dining comfortably without a care in the world. The common misinterpretation of this painting is the notion behind it. It is frequently understood that Rockwell wanted to depict an ideal American family with everything they've ever dreamed of. What is so often forgotten is that the painting was part of several made to accompany Carlo Bulosan's Time Magazine special "The Four Freedoms Essays", in which the migrant writer detailed an inspiring treatise on the power of economic liberty, but became known for its portrayal of the completeness that comes with family.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPbd2Dpi9tY&t=120s)

The idea of a doppelgänger has appeared throughout folklore and across multiple cultures and mythological lexicons, and these stories present this idea as a nightmare, possibly as some kind of evil twin or creature bent on one's destruction. It is a very basic, primal human instinct to be afraid of this: if there is one thing that a person must have it is self awareness, to be able to recognize themselves. To shatter this illusion fills us with a crippling sense of existential dread, one that Denis Villeneuve's Enemy portrays perfectly.

Roughly a decade ago, the older half brother of poet Matthew Dickman, as well as his poet twin brother Michael Dickman, commit suicide. The tragic death of their brother frequently appears in the poetry of the brothers. As he discusses in this article by The Guardian(https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/jun/19/brother-matthew-dickman-michael-dickman-interview), after the death of his brother, Matthew began to have recurring dreams of massive, almost humanoid flies.

I interpreted this as to reference other Chicanos and cholos involved in the same life of crime, as peacocks are very popular tattoos amongst the culture.

The extremity of consumption throughout this poem illustrates a larger cultural theme in the United States.

Not the first time the most loathsome, depraved person was selected as a leader