And how sweet a story it is When you hear Charley Parker tell it, Either on records or at sessions, Or at offical bits in clubs,
Birds singing in the dark —Rainy dawn.
April doesnt hurt here Like it does in New England The ground Vast and brown Surrounds dry towns
Man is not worried in the middle Man in the Middle Is not Worried He knows his Karma Is not buried
The wheel of the quivering meat conception Turns in the void expelling human… Pigs, turtles, frogs, insects, nit… Mice, lice, lizards, rats, roan
“Tryna get to sunny Californy” — Boom. It’s the awful raincoat making me look like a selfdefeated… murdering imaginary gangster, an i… a rueful coat, how can they unders…
Now it’s jazz, the place is roaring, all beautiful girls in there, one mad brunette at the bar drunk with her boys. One strange chick I remember from somewhere, wearing a simple skirt w...
The low yellow moon above the Quiet lamplit house.
I keep falling in love with my mother, I dont want to hurt her —Of all people to hurt. Every time I see her
Sweet sad young tenor Horn slumped around neck Bearded full of junk Slouches waiting For Apocalypse,
But a tree has a long suffering shapeIs spread in half by 2 limbed fate Rises from gray rain
The taste of rain —Why kneel?
Butte Magic of Ignorance Butte Magic Is the same as no—Butte All one light Old Rough Roads
—lights out— fall, hands a-clasped, into instan… ecstasy like a shot of heroin or m… the gland inside of my brain disch… the good glad fluid (Holy Fluid)…
The great hanging weak teat of In… on the map The Fingernail of Malaya The Wall of China The Korea Ti—Pousse Thumb