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Re: why I love Jack Kerouac - by Kelvin Bailey


ok, i have to know where that came from.

slightly breathless...
                          ..................twila



                                                                                                              
                    "Kelvin Bailey"                                                                           
                    <prestokelvo@hotmail.       To:     over-the-rhine at actwin_com                             
                    com>                        cc:                                                           
                    Sent by:                    Subject:     why I love Jack Kerouac - by Kelvin Bailey       
                    owner-over-the-rhine@                                                                     
                    actwin.com                                                                                
                                                                                                              
                                                                                                              
                    05/02/2002 06:33 PM                                                                       
                    Please respond to                                                                         
                    "Kelvin Bailey"                                                                           
                                                                                                              
                                                                                                              




"But they danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as
I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only
people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk,
mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who
never
yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow
roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you
see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'"

"...I saw my beloved Mississippi River, dry in the summer haze, low water,
with its big rank smell that smells like the raw body of America itself
because it washes it up."

"The arty types were all over America, sucking up its blood."

"I was so lonely, so sad, so tired, so quivering, so broken, so beat, that
I
got up my courage."

"Isn't it true that you start your life a sweet child believing in
everything under your father's roof?  Then comes the day of the Laodiceans,
when you know you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked,
and with the visage of a gruesome grieving ghost you go shuddering through
nightmare life."

"Dean never saw his mother's face.  Every new girl, every new wife, every
new child was an addition to his bleak impoverishment."

and my favorite

"...you fine gone daddy."

beat,
Kelvin

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