#BeatGeneration
—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)…
Birds singing in the dark —Rainy dawn.
The stars in the sky In vain The tragedy of Hamlet In vain The key in the lock
Sweet sad young tenor Horn slumped around neck Bearded full of junk Slouches waiting For Apocalypse,
Describe fires in riverbottom sand, and the cooking; the cooking of hot dogs spitted in whittled sticks over flames of woodfire
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…
Butte Magic of Ignorance Butte Magic Is the same as no—Butte All one light Old Rough Roads
The story of man Makes me sick Inside, outside, I don’t know why Something so conditional
April doesnt hurt here Like it does in New England The ground Vast and brown Surrounds dry towns
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
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,
The low yellow moon above the Quiet lamplit house.
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 great hanging weak teat of In… on the map The Fingernail of Malaya The Wall of China The Korea Ti—Pousse Thumb
The taste of rain —Why kneel?
