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.

                                             20 September 2010