Walking in the Shoes of Kerouac

Book of Sketches

“Hm what pretty bacon,”
she says out loud. On
the radio now’s the
Lone Ranger. Lingering
statics clip & clop
amongst its William
Tell Overtures – a
rooster foolish crows –
Hand on hip, feet
crossed, casually, a cig
burning out in the ashtray,
she picks the bacon over
with a long cook fork.
“Hum hum hum” she hums.

Paul, having fixed the Jack
lawn mower, is in the yard
finishing the part of the lawn
last overlooked. The
deep rich fat grass lies in

The Original Scroll

then began which would mix up all my friends and all I had left of my family in a big dust cloud over the American night — they talked of Burroughs, Hunkey, Vicki, … Burroughs in Texas, Hunkey on Riker’s island, Vicki hung up with Normal Schnall at the time … and Neal told Allen of people in the west like Jim Holmes the hunchbacked poolhall rotation shark and cardplayer and queer saint … he told him of Bill Tomson, Al Hinkle, his boyhood buddies, his street buddies … they rushed down the street together digging everything in the early way they had which has later now become so much sadder and perceptive.. but then they danced down the street like dingledodies and I shambled after as usual as I’ve been doing all my life after people that interest me, because the only people that interest me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing.. but burn, burn, burn like

On The Road

torrentially that people in buses looked around to see the “overexcited nut.” In the West he’d spent a third of his time in the poolhall, a third in jail, and a third in the public library. They’d seen him rushing eagerly down the winter streets, bareheaded, carrying books to the poolhall, or climbing trees to get into the attics of buddies where he spent days reading or hiding from the law.

We went to New York – I forget what the situation was, two colored girls – there were no girls there; they were supposed to meet him in a diner and didn’t show up. We went to his parking lot where he had a few things to do – change his clothes in the shack in back and spruce up a bit in front of a cracked mirror and so on, and then we took off. And that was the night Dean met Carlo Marx. A tremendous thing happened when Dean met Carlo Marx. Two keen minds that they are, they took to each other at the drop of a hat. Two

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Kerouac, Retyping, Walking in the Shoes. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s