#BeatGeneration
The low yellow moon above the Quiet lamplit house.
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
One flower on the cliffside Nodding at the canyon
Describe fires in riverbottom sand, and the cooking; the cooking of hot dogs spitted in whittled sticks over flames of woodfire
I keep falling in love with my mother, I dont want to hurt her —Of all people to hurt. Every time I see her
Man is not worried in the middle Man in the Middle Is not Worried He knows his Karma Is not buried
Birds singing in the dark —Rainy dawn.
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
Now it’s jazz, the place is roaring, all beautiful girls in there, one mad brunette at the bar drunk with her boys. One strange chick I remember from somewhere, wearing a simple skirt w...
The taste of rain —Why kneel?
“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…
The wheel of the quivering meat conception Turns in the void expelling human… Pigs, turtles, frogs, insects, nit… Mice, lice, lizards, rats, roan
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...
The story of man Makes me sick Inside, outside, I don’t know why Something so conditional
Roosevelt was worth 6, 7 million d… He was Tight Frog waits Till poor fly Flies by