"love’s multitudinous boneyard of decay,
the spilled milk of heroes,
destruction of silk kerchiefs by dust storm,
caress of heroes blindfolded to posts,
murder victims admitted to this life,
skeletons bartering for fingers and joints,
the quivering meat of the elephants of kindness being torn apart by vultures,
conceptions of delicate kneecaps,
fear of rats dripping with bacteria,
golgotha cold hope for gold hope,
damp leaves of autumn against the wood of boats,
seahorse’s delicate imagery of glue,
sentimental “i love you” no more,
death by long exposure to defilement,
frightening ravishing mysterious beings concealing their sex,
pieces of the buddha material frozen and sliced microscopically,
in morgues of the north,
penis apples going to seed,
the severed gullets more numerous than sands-
like kissing my kitten in the belly
the softness of our reward."
— jack kerouac, mexico city blues
