This poem, what Dominic Rivron describes as a Variation on a theme, is composed using the same technique as the poem immediately below it. It is also a "words by Kerouac" effort. You might try and construct a similar verse for yourself. I'll choose another poet to work with next time.
Call God the Mother
- I almost called these poems -
Who spawned all this God
One was called Boston Kitty
By men and maids
Of heaven-hailward
In the wild bar
Burned out every day
Aint we all?
On Sixth Street near Mission
We booted and we brained
From High Masquerade
Red, white and black and blue
And Lightning Creek morely roared
O me, - gingerale we drank
In the ancient blue Buick
Crrash!
Crash toutes les shows
Buddha pra-teeth torn
Under a headache cross
"Man is here!"
That I could not take
Today is Sunday
Much words has been written about it
Thieves' Markets & imbeciles
In the city of the midnight
See?
The tatata of thusness
With palm and forefinger
Hungry to burn in the candle
And the early spring
One or the other
Who but a Who's Who
He says "Who?" and I says
Never to return
The worst is yet to come
And everything
Routine "Hello Sucker, we
Eat in my drugstore"
Campaign in Buffalo
Tapped me on the arm
Bullshit in the tree
Was imparted to me
Forms and costumes and noses
Wood cracking in the sea
Everything, anything, God
And died all a silent
Dans son tombeau
Ooogh! he upped & come back
On Tenor Saxophone
A Milan
Bent down to the mud
One night
To his arms
And ah -
Jiggling gently in the night
He said and prodded me
The most beautiful sound in the world
Fantasm crazam crazam
For the pretties on the square
Faces green on the benches
Old ladies of shame, the same
Sin
And I don't care?
Who cares? Wha?
What's the moon got but tunes?
All sucks on same air
Ere aye mice Burns
Ah God be merciful
From here to eternity
That's where I'll be
I suppose this would be good set to music and called 'On the Road' as you were jogging along.
ReplyDeleteSet to music? Dominic's the man then ;)
ReplyDelete