“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 center light pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’" (Kerouac)
Kerouac was/is one of the prominent poets of the beat generation. There are, currently, a few poets who apparently think they are equal to the originals and do their best to emulate the lifestyle and bravado.
My advice is: you and your poetry were better when you were being yourself, and, if you keep up this contrived, beat generation thing, you will end up destroying yourself and your poetry.
Have at it.
The Energy That Became Donald Trump
7 years ago
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