Birds singing in the dark—Rainy dawn.
Posts published in “Jack Kerouac Poems”
The great hanging weak **** of Indiaon the map The Fingernail of MalayaThe Wall of ChinaThe KoreaTi-Pousse ThumbThe Salamander Japanthe Okinawa Moon SpotThe PacificThe Back of Hawaiian MountainscoconutsKines, balconies, Ah…
I keep falling in lovewith my mother,I dont want to hurt her-Of all people to hurt. Every time I see hershe’s grown olderBut her uniform alwaysamazes meFor its Dutch simplicityAnd…
Butte Magic of IgnoranceButte MagicIs the same as no-ButteAll one lightOld Rough RoadsOne High IronMainway Denver is the same‘The guy I was with his uncle wasthe govornor of Wyoming’‘Course he…
The wheel of the quivering meatconceptionTurns in the void expelling human beings,Pigs, turtles, frogs, insects, nits,Mice, lice, lizards, rats, roanRacinghorses, poxy bucolic pigtics,Horrible unnameable lice of vultures,Murderous attacking dog-armiesOf Africa,…
And how sweet a story it isWhen you hear Charley Parkertell it,Either on records or at sessions,Or at offical bits in clubs,Shots in the arm for the wallet,Gleefully he Whistled…
Man is not worried in the middle Man in the MiddleIs not WorriedHe knows his KarmaIs not buried But his Karma,Unknown to him,May end – Which is Nirvana Wild MenWho…
Describe fires in riverbottomsand, and the cooking;the cooking of hot dogsspitted in whittled sticksover flames of woodfirewith grease dropping in smoketo brown and blackenthe salty hotdogs,and the wine,and the work…
Roosevelt was worth 6, 7 million dollarsHe was Tight Frog waitsTill poor flyFlies byAnd then they got him The pool of clear rocksCovered with vegetable ****Covered the rocksClear the poolCovered…
Society has good intentions Bureaucracy is like a friend5 years ago – other furies other losses – America’strying to control the uncontrollable Forest fires, Vice The essential smile In the…
I lie on my back at midnighthearing the marvelous strange chimeof the clocks, and know it’s mid-night and in that instant the wholeworld swims into sight for mein the form…
The low yellowmoon above theQuiet lamplit house.
The tasteof rain—Why kneel?
‘Tryna get to sunny Californy’ –Boom. It’s the awful raincoatmaking me look like a selfdefeated self-murdering imaginary gangster, an idiot in a rueful coat, how can they understand my damp…
-lights out-fall, hands a-clasped, into instantaneousecstasy like a shot of ****** or morphine,the gland inside of my brain dischargingthe good glad fluid (Holy Fluid) asi hap-down and hold all my…
April doesnt hurt hereLike it does in New EnglandThe groundVast and brownSurrounds dry townsLocated in the dustOf the coming locustLive for survival, not for ‘kicks’Be a bangtail describer,like of shrouded…