I almost forgot
On The Road
was written a long time ago
but Jack K is still here in memory,
hunting for Old Bull Lee
who is somewhere shooting bullets and drugs,
lots of drugs.
Jack K drove to Boulder on the hunt,
but the Institute wouldn't admit him,
so on their Buddhist front steps, he started to read an important poem,
Howl,
and the pages still held power,
although the original author was a former mental patient from New York City.
a listener standing on the top step said she didn't understand the words or the work!
and to "Please return tomorrow or never."
Jack said, in his courteous Catholic way, that he used to hang out at Columbia University,
when the poem's writer was once a student,
but the comment dropped on her like an unwelcome flash of insight.
Picking up the insight idea was Cassady,
who threw it into his car,
along with Jack, driving off with great haste,
listening to jazz played at the highest volume,
and began yelling that he'd fuck everybody if he had the time,
though he seldom stopped speeding,
and took every turn he found,
looking for adventure.
Jack said he'd write about it
as soon as he found a working typewriter and a long
scroll of paper.
maybe he didn't need Old Bull Lee after all.
But Cassady didn't hear none of it.
