Taking part in Ugo Rondinone: I ♥ John Giorno means collaborating on a celebration of life, love, creativity, and compassion.
Your marvelous birth took place in North America.
American Buddhism irritates me. I think of lecherous rinpoches; I think of high school gymnasiums packed with cross-legged bourgeoisies chuckling with Pema Chödrön over shared foibles.
I remember visiting John on the Bowery when our son Jesse was about one year old. Jesse was crying and Christie had him in her arms and was comforting him saying, “it’s alright … it’s alright.” John turned to us and said “It’s not alright. And it’s never going to be alright.”
John Giorno’s Subduing Demons in America: Selected Poems 1962–2007, ably edited by Marcus Boon, first allowed me a chance to grasp the whole nettle of Giorno’s career in poetry—its shape, its energy, its paideuma, as Pound (following Frobenius), used the word.