(Source: reverieseuphorique, via woodysblues)
The only war that matters is the war against the imagination.
Life is life, and kind is kind.
Gregory Corso and Frank Keegan
at Salem State College President eating a meal before the panel discussion on April 5th, 1973.
(Source: Flickr / salemstatearchives)
Crawdaddy, June 1975
On the cover: Jimmy Page and William BurroughsSource: Arthur Magazine
The only thing that can save the world is the reclaiming of the awareness of the world. That’s what poetry does.
I’ve slept
in every room except
the kitchen, and that
includes alone or
with others, in symphony
or cacophony. Now
the man in his socks, the one
asleep on his own pillow,
the tender lover, curious
youth, bossy fuck
—all these clothed and naked visions—
are sharing particular angles
of light, the rushed or
lingering presence of time.
They hang off the splintering
beams. On the uneven floor
we all lie down in layers,
a hologram of lovers, his pillow
under another one’s head,
the constant drift of old perfume, a jacket
left behind on a chair, shoes
later buried with the dead.
They needed heels. The jacket is minus
a button. Torn sheets, the windows
unwashed. We breathe and
don’t breathe, lie, pass
in the hall, fall
into all our arms, live again
gone soon
Reviews for Walter Salles On the Road
“Don’t Let that Horse…” by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Don’t let that horse
eat that violin
cried Chagall’s mother
But he
kept right on
painting
And became famous
And kept on painting
The Horse With Violin In Mouth
And when he finally finished it
he jumped up upon the horse
and rode away
waving the violin
And then with a low bow gave it
to the first naked nude he ran across
And there were no strings
attached
