empty

empty
Originally uploaded by mufflevski.

K.G.B. Beat triad. Crown jewels of versy-informal. Quick talk and all night, all week typewriter marathons. Good inspiration to follow. Mind meanderings. EGOEGO fantastical. EGO that Kerouac uses to try and keep afloat, but waves of whisky drink take him under as he avoids the turd tossing critics and life becomes too much to bear. Old age does not suit him.
Borroughs old skeleton-man walking. Yage brain, piles of poetry on onion skin on a dirty otherworldly floor. Shoots his wife in the head. William do Tell us that this was an accident. Ginsberg, naked guru jew-buu – shouts from rooftops “I am high and naked and I am king of the Universe!” Don’t we all believe that we somehow stand apart? Will beat out, cheat death? Death, that anonomizer. Sizzles us all to atomic bits; vapor. We leave histrionic dramas behind – and some may even think the earthsolid will remain – ancestors to shoulder, to give us hope of continuation, infinity. But our supernova sun goes exploding. Taking out the roundrock we live on- a speck in the infinity of the universe, inside universe, inside infinite universe. Rendering poetry meaningless, our lives meaningless. One must live day to day, moment to moment, for it is all we truly have.