24.7.14

Kerouac em carta a seu editor Malcom Cowley




 



Dear Mr Cowley
Only today April 19th got your month-old letter about why you couldn’t wait. Had just sent you a postcard saying BOO! - Please send the list of recommendations and I will start on it (the Denver section etc.) This address is a shack - I wanta bring my mother to California, I hope we can publish On the Road at last. - I’ve got all this time at last. - I’ve got all this time now to do the work, in this shack, till June when I’ll be completely out of touch 2 months in wilderness lookout job…so would appreciate speed.
As ever
Jack
p.s How’d you like GERARD?
BOO!
Jack



20.7.14

Bill Callahan




Dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
Dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
For the first time in your life
Wear your blouse undone to hear
And your skirt split up to here 

Oh Dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
For the first time in your life
Oh Dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
Wink at the minister
Blow kisses to my grieving brothers 

Dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
And when it comes your turn to speak before the crowd
Tell them about the time we did it
On the beach with fireworks above us 

On the railroad tracks with the gravel in your back
In the back room of a crowded bar
And in the graveyard where my body now rests 

Oh Dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
Dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
For the first time in your life 

Also tell them about how I gave to charity
And tried to love my fellow man as best i could
But most of all don't forget about the time on the beach
With fireworks above us 


14.7.14

Lauren Shapiro






The Conversation


There is always a woman eating a sandwich.
Today she is large as everything
that wasn't said. It is ham and cheese.
Who cares. You're watching me, she seems
to say. Being alone is unlike a chess move.
It is unlike hanging out at the bowling alley
with Dale Hickey. A hundred stuffed animals
the size of a fist and I can't make the claw catch.
Turkey, says Dale Hickey. The lights
are making turkey shapes all over
the place.Turkey. I heard you.
The woman has finished eating her sandwich
and is on to another one. Now she is tiny
as a shrimp. She is eating the smallest
egg salad sandwich in the world. I think,
Maybe I will speak to her. But she does it first.
I've wanted to talk to you for ages, she says,
but instead I keep eating all these sandwiches.
I know, I say. And I keep going to the bowling alley
with Dale Hickey. It's been hell.




28.5.14

Maya Angelou 2




  A Conceit


Give me your hand

Make room for me
to lead and follow
you
beyond this rage of poetry.

Let others have
the privacy of
touching words
and love of loss
of love.

For me
Give me your hand. 



Maya Angelou