Tom Disch - a long-time Poetry magazine contributor - committed suicide on July 4th, a loss to the worlds of poetry and science fiction. Albert Goldbarth tells Poetry assistant editor, Fred Sasaki, that Disch called him on the 4th, the day he committed suicide, and left a message that said, “This is a message for Albert Goldbarth. This is Tom Disch and I will not commit to a machine.”
"N.B.: adoring me is not a crime,
it's your God-given right! So have yourself
the same kind of fun other believers do
by making a public nuisance of yourself
and pissing off all the officious old farts
you know. Insist that your First Amendment rights
be respected. And save Saturday night for Me!"
So that's why I say of all writers there are,
The best of the lot was Bob Service by far,
And all of you eggheads up there on Parnassus,
Should do jest like he did and get up off yer asses.
Invitation to the Walt
Now he's safely dead it's possible
for even the most uptight among us
to respond to the invitation he extends:
Come, lads, let's have ourselves some fun.
A drag race! Or we could ski! Or go
to sea and feel the wind behind us.
Fill your lungs to their capacity and then
let loose that air in a song like some huge
pipe organ. Now say with me, I love you,
Walt, and when I see you in the mirror
I just can't help it, I go ape.