Hey Rube...

April doesnt hurt here

Like it does in New England

The ground

Vast and brown

Surrounds dry towns

Located in the dust

Of the coming locust

Live for survival, not for “kicks”

Be a bangtail describer,

like of shrouded traveler

in Textile tenement & the birds fighting

in yr ears-like Burroughs exact to

describe & gettin $

The Angry Hunger

(hunger is anger)

who fears the

hungry feareth

the angry)

And so I came home

To Golden far away

Twas on the horizon

Every blessed day

As we rolled And we rolled

From Donner tragic Pass

Thru April in Nevada And out Salt City

Way Into the dry Nebraskas And sad

Wyomings Where young girls And

pretty lover boys

With Mickey Mantle eyes

Wander under moons

Sawing in lost cradle

And Judge O Fasterc

Passes whiggling by To ask of young

love: ,,Was it the same wind Of April

Plains eve that ruffled the dress

Of my lost love

Louanna

In the Western

Far off night

Lost as the whistle

Of the passing Train

Everywhere West

Roams moaning

The deep basso

- Vom! Vom!

- Was it the same love

Notified my bones

As mortify years now

Children of the soft

Wyoming April night?

Couldna been!

But was! But was!”

And on the prairie

The wildflower blows

In the night

For bees & birds And

sleeping hidden Animals of life.

The Chicago

Spitters in the spotty street

Cheap beans, loop, Girls made eyes at

me And I had 35 Cents in my jeans -

Then Toledo

Springtime starry

Lover night Of hot rod boys And cool

girls A wandering

A wandering

In search of April pain A plash of rain

Will not dispel This fumigatin hell Of

lover lane This park of roses Blue as

bees

In former airy poses

In aerial O Way hoses

No tamarand And figancine Can

the musterand Be less kind

Sol -

Sol -

Bring forth yr Ah Sunflower - Ah me

Montana

Phosphorescent Rose

And bridge in

fairly land

I’d understand it all

Nebraska by Jack Kerouac