From the ravaged moon by which my fountain pen spews
I channel the beat generation's list of whose who's
Alan gives freely, so much thought
as Jack makes me speculate this and whatnot
Days spent, enscribed in gory detail
on a cross country hunt - along an American trail
searching passionately for a great big national treasure
not giving the truth about all its challenge or pleasure
thumbs up, the beat goes on
living in legacy today - piecing the puzzles along
A Subterranean vortex devoured in sweaty imagery
Mexican prostitutes, Buddhist monks in purgatory
Ideology
in a generation
ahead of it very own density
while struggling
in the face
of compassionate propensity
Some how manage
to make good with what they gave
the people around, so eager to be brave
Hippo's in servitude
Stalkers Who were Rude.
Gross indecency
begging for face
socks to the ceiling
(undercover embrace)
Whatdaya think?, I am curious to know
for a little insight - at least a little show
digging deep
personal letter's in type
written with grammar error's
a passionate insight
Jack's secrets
in my heart
I will give him some life
in My new age art.
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