Page 93 - Jack Foley | The true litterateur
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                 poor mad hemingway damaged star of ken burns' sky
                 unable to navigate what ought to have been easy

                 how does America generate these Oedipal monsters
                 constantly arguing with men / constantly desiring the mother

                 constantly wondering what it would be like to be the mother
                 these lovers of guns deserters of women whom they demand

                 to be maternal servants but who bore them to tears if they are

                 does not understand hemingway's greatness, his art
                 but does understand the sickness which held him in its grip
                 throughout his life.

                 the praise rings hollow, but the sickness is real.
                 "I just had enough," says his son. "we never saw each other again."

                 the poor madman constantly displaying his maleness
                 constantly declaring himself not to be the suicide

                 which he knew he would be at last.
                 the bull charges Papa who executes a failed Veronica

                 and the animal gores him again and again.
                 the crowd watches, horrified, open mouthed.
                 Papa screams in pain but the bull continues

                 until it becomes a double-gaged shotgun aimed directly at his forehead
                 and poor mad Papa is pulling the trigger.

                 Fitzgerald nailed him many years earlier in Gatsby
                 which may be why he hated Fitzgerald:

                 the poor son of a bitch

                 the poor son of a bitch

                  Why does America crucify its artists?

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