Jack Kerouac

Whole new era for holy Lunacy is sublime
Bardic poetry returned to the children
Of the living breathing void in work pants

Get a hoe and dig up a field plant your fruits
And nuts will fall on childlike graybeards
Tearing up the rules and gloomy pusses of Academy

Get smart you lazy fucks the discipline is
The true blue song of man and woman alike
So write with amazement towards yourself

Come on in from under you're the original
Genius open and listening to the babbling mindflow
Excited by looking at Americans in cars

The road is endless grey supermonster
Marred by trashy slopes the diners are beautiful
Chrome and glass and moody people stabbing

Their own little piece of the pie fraught
With a thousand difficulties unspeakably proud
Spit shine grandiose rising to Promethean heights

The torments of great formations in mist
Not editorialized here but lifted to vision
Spine heights at the sad end of eternity

Empty wine bottle cold as Hoboken in November
Or Mission Street in ancient San Francisco
Where the lawns grow heather-like and men

Caught in the whirlwind of heaven worldweary
Men leaning into holes in space on lawns green
Pills coming on the earth revolving into sleep

Liquid incantations not known outside the bayou
Agility mystery sadness immensities stretches of
Universe that have his name on them words the key