Yvor Winters said of Peter Tork (And, I think, rightly so),
“He is Whitman trying to express a loose America by
writing loose poetry. This fallacy, the fallacy of expressive,
or intuitive form, recurs constantly in modern Monkee
literature.”

from page 62
In Defense of Tree Sons
Yvor Winters

… ah, the cymbalism, the cymbalism…



The Gospel According To The Monkees
(Mind you, Peter Tork is still a Dork)


There’s a kind of hush when
they pull him down from the cross.
I guess they showed him who’s boss.

Sleepy Jean caresses him
and tells him it will be okay.
But, what else is she supposed to say?

Oh, them Romans are such kidders
except when they get angry
and drink too much brandy.

They’ll feed you to the lions…
they’ll let the elephants trample
every single slave from head to ankle.

There’s no milk in Clarksville tonight.
They’ll wrap you in a shroud
and you’ll be dragged thru the streets by a Turin crowd.