With the Indians Permanent

Sad lost time of all rainy afternoon in Paris

Go

This week's waitress pulls out a camel, striking a match on the dash

Having just come with a prayer and a curse in the back of a stolen car

Amphetamine wearing out a hollowing switchblade

Rucksack ancestral creasing the long split track

With an eye out for cops, hoods and angels

Strung out flag of the mysterious cupped cigarettes

Subterraneans

Subterraneans making a lonely invisible freedom

The cold East side of a stolen time

Charlie Parker's umbilical cord

Hobo dust wrapper track exploding

Turning into blood brotherhood in three weeks

"With the Indians permanent"

Searching out a Sputnik epitaph

On-the-road

Living singed on barbiturate's tenderness, crayola inflamed

Hot wire joyrides teleprint the word "Dream"

Don Quixote lunatics waiting for Zen

The back seat of a noble message

In memory of a sailor's dead six-pack

Breathlessly bleeding the next lagoon in a bivouacked hotel

Burning a legend in asphalt

Fathomless after hours following a trail of Cognac

The slip in the naked life is a low sobriety grove

Lonely

Legendary long time raping land conversations on reel to reel

Pinned without sleep in a railroad line

Blue Norman lost in gone streets of bebop

Blowing wild beneath a jungle midnight sky

Ravaged by the storm, hopping freights

Running dust-bowl high

Virgins, sands, moons

Ghost raincoat heart

A maverick car with Cassady at the wheel

A nail in the jazz ghost blood

Always in the spiny with colors

Dark inks unfurl

Rosary beads over folded hands

Go, red, spirit fly