“The only truth is music”: Author of “On the Road”
Posted March 18, 2023
on:Erik Rittenberry wrote a piece on Jack Kerouac birthday. Today, dance like a demented shaman around the bonfires of the world. Go mad for the day. Go on an impromptu road trip. Go moan for man. Do it. Be whimsical and out of the ordinary. Do what may stirs your blood.
Skid Row Wine
By Jack Kerouac
I coulda done a lot worse than sit in Skid Row drinkin wine To know that nothing matters after all To know there's no real difference between the rich and the poor. To know that eternity is neither drunk nor sober, to know it young and be a poet Coulda gone into business and ranted And believed that God was concerned Instead I squatted in lonesome alleys And no one saw me, just my bottle and what they saw of it was empty And I did it in the cornfields & graveyards To know that the dead don't make noise To know that the cornstalks talk (among one another with raspy old arms) Sittin in alleys diggin the neons And watching cathedral custodians Wring out their rags neath the church steps Sittin and drinkin wine And in railyards being divine To be a millionaire & yet to prefer Curling up with a poor boy of tokay In a warehouse door, facing long sunsets On railroad fields of grass To know that the sleepers in the river are dreaming vain dreams, to squat in the night and know it well To be dark solitary eye-nerve watcher of the world's whirling diamond
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