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NIGHTMARES LINED UP LIKE SHOTS OF TEQUILA Lost in a secret languageMy head in a song bag of foreign rhythmsPoliticians with their Ponzi schemesReligious leaders shaking their bag of voodoo bones My mind escapes into the intoxicated dawnPoems that burst like a ruptured water pipeRivers of blood sing their night songThe moon a bloody accompliceHides …
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Photo: Stiv Bators by David Arnoff "I am watching them churn the last milk they'll ever get from me. They are waiting for me to die; They want to make buttons out of …
Beatnik" poet Ray BREMSER on the fire escape of Alan Ginsberg's apartment in the East Village, NYC, 1959. Photo: Burt Glinn In love with your lips and in love with your belly's white warmth, 0 human - 0 animal "heavenly screwed little girl - in love with your crying's pure succulent salt of the heart - hot heart …
What’s me? Me is that which want to be amazed without natural cessation, in an eternity of ecstasy.Rules? Laws? To me, what?I am free to want what I want.I want uninterrupted rapture. I believe this has been made manifest to me in dreams, and in music, and in the pages of Dostoevsky, in the lines of Shakespeare, in sexual …
Neal Cassady "Dean’s intelligence was every bit as formal and shining and complete, without the tediousintellectualness. And his «criminality» was not something that sulked and sneered; it was a wild yeasaying overburst of American joy; it was Western, the west wind, an ode from the Plains, something new, long prophesied, long a-coming (he only stole …
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PARIS POETRY 