#BeatGeneration
Birds singing in the dark —Rainy dawn.
Tears is the break of my brow, The moony tempestuous Sitting downIn dark railyards When to see my mother’s face Recalling from the waking vision
The taste of rain —Why kneel?
—lights out— fall, hands a-clasped, into instan… ecstasy like a shot of heroin or m… the gland inside of my brain disch… the good glad fluid (Holy Fluid)…
I lie on my back at midnight hearing the marvelous strange chim… of the clocks, and know it’s mid— night and in that instant the whol… world swims into sight for me
Butte Magic of Ignorance Butte Magic Is the same as no—Butte All one light Old Rough Roads
Society has good intentions Burea… 5 years ago – other furies other l… America’s trying to control the uncontrollab… The essential smile In the essent…
Sweet sad young tenor Horn slumped around neck Bearded full of junk Slouches waiting For Apocalypse,
Did I create that sky? Yes, for, if it was anything other than a conception in my mind I wouldnt have said 'Sky’—That is why I am the golden eternity. There are not two of us here, read...
Roosevelt was worth 6, 7 million d… He was Tight Frog waits Till poor fly Flies by
“Tryna get to sunny Californy” — Boom. It’s the awful raincoat making me look like a selfdefeated… murdering imaginary gangster, an i… a rueful coat, how can they unders…
And how sweet a story it is When you hear Charley Parker tell it, Either on records or at sessions, Or at offical bits in clubs,
Describe fires in riverbottom sand, and the cooking; the cooking of hot dogs spitted in whittled sticks over flames of woodfire
One flower on the cliffside Nodding at the canyon
