Wealth & Money Quote by Gregory Corso

Corso’s “Now” lands like a drumbeat of self-mockery: the poet narrates his own myth in real time, and then punctures it. At twenty, he “comes out” and “go[es] back to Greenwich Village,” that mid-century Beat crucible where poverty and brilliance were supposed to ferment into art. The phrasing suggests an origin story with a return built in, as if the Village is less a neighborhood than a stage set for authenticity.

Then comes the turn: “Now, of course, I’m a wealthy man.” The “of course” is the knife. It’s not triumph; it’s a wink at the audience and a jab at the cultural machinery that turns deprivation into a brand. Corso knew the script: the outsider survives, gets canonized, sells the legend back to the very society he once stood outside of. The line exposes how quickly “bohemia” becomes a commodity, how Greenwich Village can function as an address and an aura you can monetize.

There’s also an anxiety hiding inside the punchline. Wealth here isn’t simply money; it’s the uncomfortable proof that the poet has been absorbed. If the Village once offered permission to reject middle-class life, returning as “a wealthy man” risks turning rebellion into a lifestyle choice. Corso’s intent is double-edged: to claim the improbable ascent and to ridicule it, to confess complicity while keeping a Beat-era sneer trained on the myth of the artist who “makes it” without losing his soul.