kerouac

kerouac yea kerouac, his words the words so many words just, all brothers of the same horn sisters the saxophone, notes music words a melody a quote a figure eight a figure, if you listen close to the drummer, it's like a mirror and your invisible, like your in a back seat, no handles on the doors just a beautiful driver up front, she knows where she's going, kerouac the observation machine, caressing the most passing of scenes with photographic love, passionate photographic love, venerable as anyone knew, his memories pull shades up and down, doors are not done telegrams arrive, every morning something extra?, remembering everything like a snatch of melody, a drumbeat remembering mythologizing, so fast all the time moving, the words the words are drumsticks pounding out drum beats, like a monk like a monk melody, with mistakes yea mistakes and sudden inspirations, edges corners explosions convections, all fast through a slow motion landscape, yea fast through a slow motion landscape