Beat is not dead

   There’s no telling

What’s on the mind

Of the bony

   Character in plaid

Workcoat & glasses

   Carrying lunch

   Stalking & bouncing

      Slowly to his job.

Or the beauteous Indian

Girl hurrying stately

   Into Marathon Grocery

Run by Greeks

   To buy bananas

      For her love night,

   What’s she thinking?

      Her lips are like cherries,

   Her cheeks just purse them out

   All the more to kiss them

   And suck their juices out.

San Francisco Blues (11th Chorus) | Kerouac

via austinimus

ah

   little girls make

   shadows on the

   sidewalk shorter

than the shadow

   of death

      in this town—

[Kerouac, Book of Blues]

via austinimus

“Everything is the same, the fog says ‘We are fog and we fly by dissolving like ephemera,’ and the leaves say ‘We are leaves and we jiggle in the wind, that’s all, we come and go, grow and fall’ — Even the paper bags in my garbage pit say ‘We are mantransformed paper bags made out of wood pulp, we are kinda proud of being paper bags as long as that will be possible, but we’ll be mush again with our sisters the leaves come rainy season’ — The tree stumps say ‘We are tree stumps torn out of the ground by men, sometimes by the wind, we have big tendrils full of earth that drink out of the earth’ — Men say ‘We are men, we pull out tree stumps, we make paper bags, we think wise thoughts, we make lunch, we look around, we make a great effort to realize everything is the same.’”

— Big Sur

Submitted by bonebookends

There are those who love to get dirty
and fix things.
They drink coffee at dawn,
beer after work,

And those who stay clean,
just appreciate things,
At breakfast they have milk
and juice at night.

There are those who do both,
they drink tea.

-gary snyder