Tag Archives: Book of Blues
Medium High
“Poetry doesn’t know: The air conditioner Not in use in winter Is like my hopes— Half in, half out.” —Jack Kerouac, from “Richmond Hill Blues” (Book of Blues) I have no air conditioner. No dishwasher. I have no washing machine. … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Question of Property
“I almost called these poems Pickpocket Blues because they are the repetition by memory of earlier poems stolen from me b y t w e l v e t h i e v e s.” —Jack Kerouac, … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
No Ginger
“I stand on my head on Desolation Peak And see that the world is hanging Into an ocean of endless space.” —Jack Kerouac, from the 1st Chorus of “Desolation Blues” (Book of Blues) Prone to motion sickness, I’ve looked for … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
What He Said in the 11th Chorus
You swim in the biggest one of a chain of lakes. Don’t fear the consequences. There your head goes popping through the surface then bubbling back under. You were adamant—you don’t like the tone of Kerouac’s poems. So there you … Continue reading
Filed under Morning Poems
Response to the 55th Chorus
“I also have all space And St Louis too Light follows rivers I do too Light fades, I pass.” —Jack Kerouac, from the 55th Chorus of “San Francisco Blues” (Book of Blues) If this were a poker … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems, Morning Poems
Inside His 50th Chorus
“The guitar’s a-started Playing by itself.” —Jack Kerouac, from the 50th Chorus to “San Francisco Blues” (Book of Blues) Hot wind and time to be alone converge at an intersection I won’t remember tomorrow morning when light breaks open that … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Tinderbox
Kerouac sees punks in his 20th chorus— all those who would fit on a page of a breast pocket notebook. Leftover ones dancing on the head of a pin, I’ll get over this disdain. I’ll listen again when amphitheaters begin … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
