Does kittykat know there's a pigeon on the clothes closet?
we met one strange summerin a regular tangle of sticky websyou had the air of angels sweet but I--drowned with the damned spiritsin lava oceans fearing your--foreign static frequency and grey-green ey...
Maybe I should stop while I'm aheadNay, I swim with sea-demons no sweet summer tuned radioover my sunless desertscapehow does it burn without the sun?
We are blind and live our blind lives out in blindness. Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of the angels.
Follow your inner moonlight don't hide the madness.
By the 'best minds' Ginsberg meant the dropouts, poets, musicians and world travellers, as opposed to doctors and lawyers. He understood that Wrong Planet people tend to pick up better communication s...
Democracy! Bah! When I hear that word I reach for my feather boa!
I would rather go mad, gone down the dark road to Mexico, heroin dripping in my veins, eyes and ears full of marijuana, eating the god Peyote on the floor of a mudhut on the border or laying in a hote...
I forgave everybody, I gave up, I got drunk.
For invented gods invariably disappoint those who worship them.
Here I was at the end of America - no more land - and now there was nowhere to go but back.