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BREECH, by                

Michael McClure’s "Breech" is a vivid, hallucinatory meditation on struggle, resistance, and transformation, infused with the Beat Movement’s signature intensity, spontaneity, and existential urgency. The poem’s title suggests a rupture or a break—a passage through an obstruction, whether physical, psychological, or spiritual. Throughout the poem, McClure presents images of walls, barricades, and barriers, evoking a sense of confrontation: a force pushing against another, a battle between self and environment, destruction and integration, chaos and clarity. These tensions are heightened by the poem’s fragmented, explosive structure, in which each line surges forward with forceful energy, resisting conventional syntax and punctuation in favor of a free-flowing, organic composition.

The poem opens with an assertion of confrontation: "A barricade — a wall — a stronghold," immediately setting up an image of resistance and an obstacle that demands engagement. The duality of "Sinister and joyous, of indigo and saffron," underscores the paradoxical nature of this wall—it is both ominous and celebratory, an impediment and an invitation. The contrasting colors, indigo and saffron, evoke a mystical or spiritual dimension, suggesting that the confrontation with the wall is not merely physical but also metaphysical. McClure’s Beat contemporaries, particularly Allen Ginsberg and Gary Snyder, often explored the intersection of struggle and enlightenment, viewing intense experiences as gateways to transcendence. McClure, in this poem, embraces this notion, presenting the wall not just as something to be destroyed but as something one might "be a part of." The speaker’s fate is uncertain—he may "hurl [himself] against" it, "crush or / To be a part of the wall," either obliterating himself or merging with the obstacle.

This tension between destruction and unity continues in the violent imagery that follows: "Spattered brains or the imprint of a violent foot," "To crumble loose some brilliant masonry / Or knock it down." The force of the wall is met with an equally violent desire to break through it, to send "pieces flying / Like stars!" The comparison of debris to stars elevates the destruction to something cosmic, as though breaking through the wall is an act of creation, a release of energy that transforms matter into something luminous and transcendent.

From this initial burst of confrontation, the poem shifts into a surreal, feverish vision of labor and hallucination. The speaker moves "At work — 3:00 in the morning — / In the produce market / Moving crates of lettuce and cauliflower." This setting is gritty and mundane, grounding the poem in physical labor and the exhaustion of pre-dawn work. But within this seemingly ordinary moment, a "vision" emerges. The rats scurrying around the market "become chinchillas," transforming from vermin into something exotic, luxurious, and strange. This moment encapsulates McClure’s Beat sensibilities—his ability to blur the lines between reality and hallucination, between the everyday and the mystical. Like Ginsberg’s visions in Howl or Kerouac’s spontaneous epiphanies on the road, McClure presents a moment in which perception shifts, altering reality in a way that is both thrilling and unsettling.

The imagery intensifies as the speaker finds himself "At the base of cliff — sweating — flaming — in terror and joy," surrounded by "whirling circles of dark / Chattering animals." The juxtaposition of "terror and joy" mirrors the earlier description of the wall as both "sinister and joyous," reinforcing the idea that this confrontation—whether with reality, with the self, or with existence itself—is both terrifying and exhilarating. The "black lynx stares from the hole / In the cliff," introducing an animal presence that is both mystical and menacing. The lynx, known for its keen sight and elusive nature, might symbolize hidden knowledge or an otherworldly observer, watching as the speaker undergoes this moment of heightened awareness.

McClure continues to fuse sensory details in unexpected ways: "Rotten lettuce — perfume — / The damp carroty street." This blending of decay and beauty, filth and fragrance, reflects the poet’s fascination with the raw, visceral nature of experience. The world of the produce market, with its "rotten lettuce," is not simply a site of labor but a space where reality blurs, where sensory overload creates a heightened awareness of the body and its surroundings. The phrase "It is my head — These are my hands. / I don’t will it." suggests a loss of control, as though the speaker is no longer merely perceiving but is being overtaken by the experience, his own body becoming a conduit for something larger.

The poem’s final lines return to the imagery of the wall: "Out in the light — Noon — the City. / A Wall — a stronghold." The movement from the dark, surreal visions of the night into the stark daylight of the city suggests a return to reality, but the confrontation remains unresolved. The wall is still there, still a force to be reckoned with, but the poem does not tell us whether the speaker has broken through or been absorbed into it. This ambiguity is central to the poem’s power—"Breech" is not about resolution but about the ongoing struggle, the act of pushing against barriers, whether external or internal.

McClure’s poem embodies the Beat Movement’s key themes: spontaneity, raw emotion, and an exploration of altered perception. His use of free verse, fragmented lines, and intense imagery reflects the Beats’ rejection of formal constraints in favor of capturing the immediacy of experience. Like Ginsberg’s rhapsodic energy, Kerouac’s stream-of-consciousness momentum, and Snyder’s engagement with nature’s primal forces, McClure’s "Breech" is a work of existential urgency, a poetic attempt to push beyond the known and into the unknown.

Ultimately, "Breech" is a poem of struggle—against confinement, against the self, against the structures (both literal and metaphorical) that define and limit human experience. Yet it is also a poem of exhilaration, finding joy in the very act of resistance, in the possibility of breaking through to something beyond. McClure leaves us in a state of unresolved tension, where the wall still stands, and the challenge remains. The poem is not about the moment of victory but about the energy and necessity of the attempt, embodying the restless spirit of the Beat Generation.


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