We stood on the shores of forever. The transient waves lapping at the Cliffside Grinding granite to bare sand and granting mysticism to Perception.
Grand piano typebars snicking to the roar of bonfires burning the taste buds off our fingers Our tongues busy in rituals gifting freedom from base function to commune with Passion.
Newfound Oldschoolism stuttering confidence and alcohol imbibed clarity screaming Ginsberg at Apathy so that sand might best stone
Spinning dizzily in Rockland in Moloch in Purgatory Dying vicariously under the table while illiterate Jazz read our right accusatory for falsifying veracity
Sitting in jail cells in San Francisco for setting the sky aflame. And it is aflame.
Inmates burning with unspoken tomes spoken Who in madness spun truth in whipped tongues, begging for something worthy of Censure. Who Rapture took under wing and proclaimed “Child!” Who ripped open the sky to play with father time while mother earth ran green in envy. Who were acquitted on appeal to dance in the moonlight on the shore once more together,
Who found lust skipping stones alone and welcomed her to join us Hedonists wearing it like a badge on bare underbellies rubbing orgied in reverence Running fingers through coarse hair windblown and sparking with electric sensation. Exploring, pioneering quivering legs and chests beneath and atop us. Inventing love while sinking quickly in slow sands while smooth hands grasped for the fleeting finite Whispering sweet everythings without words for they would be wasted here. Pulling needy lips away to idealize Communism as Bourgeois swine wallowing in prosperity and sweat of our nightly deeds. Complaining of lost chances and brevity of copulation when we’ve defeated the bedsprings and Fantasizing of the bed, car, floor, park, studio, and once on the hood for good measure Forsaking sleep to defy the mandate of the setting moon Praising the glinting ****** of Adonis and Aphrodite in mutual longing as the sun blinked into existence through the window until in merry acquiescence we dozed, dreaming we had set San Francisco aflame and lit our cigarettes on its embers, While we slipped little squares under our tongues and GoldenGatePark turned alive and welcoming; Gleeful mourning at the loss of self at the University Rambling on about enlightenment full of pretentious humility Establishing Anarchy in our veins so we might be closer to god
And god lives right there in the shack atop that hill, handing out nature to the masses sitting on benches, fried to comprehension. Proclaiming that the world was bleeding glory to bewildered passers-by. Breathing in fog and smoke to join oblivion quickly Bumping Kerouac’s ashes in the selfsame alley Piling intoxicants to run sleepless through the streets wild-eyed
Dragged out of gutters covered in nothing the morning after finding our clothes draping streetlamps and leaving them in testament.
Yearning for that heavenly connection and finding it together. Scaling the walls of the mind to find mountains at the summit and climbed those too and clamored past the clouds and the stars until We found worth at the edge of the universe.