#Beat
I hope my good old asshole holds o… 60 years it’s been mostly OK Tho in Bolivia a fissure operatio… survived the altiplano hospital— a little blood, no polyps, occasio…
White fog lifting & falling on mou… Trees moving in rivers of wind The clouds arise as on a wave, gigantic eddy liftin… above teeming ferns exquisitely sw…
America I've given you all and no… America two dollars and twenty-sev… I can't stand my own mind. America when will we end the human… Go fuck yourself with your atom bo…
railroad yard in San Jose I wandered desolate in front of a tank factory and sat on a bench near the switchman’s shack.
I’m delighted by the velocity of m… of Lower East Side Delighted by skyscrapers rising th… 84th Street Delighted by inflation that drives…
Stand up against governments, agai… Stay irresponsible. Say only what we know & imagine. Absolutes are Coercion. Change is absolute.
Please master can I touch your ch… please master can I kneel at your… please master can I loosen your bl… please master can I gaze at your g… please master can I have your thig…
What do I want in these rooms pap… How much can I make by cutting my… bathe my body reeking of masturbat… dried in employment bureaus, magaz… cloakrooms of the smiling gods of…
I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look for the sunset over the box house hills and cry. Jack Kerouac...
Hey Father Death, I’m flying hom… Hey poor man, you’re all alone Hey old daddy, I know where I’m g… Father Death, Don’t cry any more Mama’s there, underneath the floor
Strange now to think of you, gone… the sunny pavement of Greenwich V… downtown Manhattan, clear winter n… talking, reading the Kaddish aloud… shout blind on the phonograph
The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden
Reality is a question of realizing how real the world is already. Time is Eternity, ultimate and immovable;
Elan that lifts me above the cloud… into pure space, timeless, yea ete… Breath transmuted into words Transmuted back to breath in one hundred two hundred years
Aunt Rose—now—might I see you with your thin face and buck tooth… of rheumatism—and a long black hea… for your bony left leg limping down the long hall in Newa…