Thus, as the Buddha said to a lady who offered him a curse,the gift is returned to the giver when it is not accepted
The electric network selling itself: The medium is the message
Slaves of Plastic! Leather-shoe chino-pants prisoners! Haircut junkies! Dacron-shiffers!
Many seek and never see, anyone can tell them why. O they weep and O they cry and never take until they try unless they try it in their sleep and never some until they die. I ask many, they ask...
Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy!The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and handand asshole...
Everything is holy! everybody's holy! everywhere is holy! everyday is in eternity! Everyman's an angel!
Banks burn, boys die bullet-eyed, mothers scream realization the vast tonnage of napalm
Everybody's serious but me.
Who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism
Saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,angelheaded hipsters burning for the...
Now the Great Fear's rolled round the world and washes over Newspaper Grey air
All Revolution and Consumption, Manufacture and Communication
What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination? Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the s...
What is obscenity? And to whom?
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river! Dreams! adorations! illumnations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then!
There is a goddying in America already created in the imagination of menmade palpable for adoration: there is an inneranterior imageof divinity beckoning me outto pilgrimage
Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village.downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I've been up all night, talking, talking, r...
Not even the humanimagination satisfiesthe endless emptiness of the soul.
My books piled up before me for my use waiting in space where I placed them, they haven't disappeared, time's left its remnants and qualities for me to use -- my words piled up, my texts, my manuscrip...