Hey Jack Kerouac, I think of your mother
and the tears she cried, she cried for none other
than her little boy lost in our little world that hated
and that dared to drag him down. Her little boy courageous
who chose his words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
Hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts,
they all spoke through you.
Hey Jack, now for the tricky part,
when you were the brightest star who were the shadows?
Of the San Francisco beat boys you were the favorite.
Now they sit and rattle their bones and think of their blood stoned days.
You chose your words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
The hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts,
nights in Chinatown howling at night.
Allen baby, why so jaded?
Have the boys all grown up and their beauty faded?
Billy, what a saint they’ve made you,
just like Mary down in Mexico on All Souls’ Day.
You chose your words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
Cool junk booting madmen, street minded girls
in Harlem howling at night.
What a tear stained shock of the world,
you’ve gone away without saying goodbye.
10.000 Maniacs, “Hey Jack Kerouac” (Lyrics by R. Buck/N. Merchant)
Hey, Tsao:
el comentario no es por Kerouac, sino para que sepas que de vez en cuando estoy por aquí, escribas en inglés, en chino, en gallego o lo que salga.
Así que seguiré leyendo, espero que más a menudo, para saber de tus “cafradas”, sean gepuleras, abnegadas, o lo que sea.
Un abrazo fuerte, espero que nos veamos pronto, pero todavía no sé cuándo.
Bueno, lo importante es que nos veamos, y que sea para bien
Me alegro que por lo menos des señales de vida, hace algunas semanas te escribí una carta a tu cuenta de hotstinks, pero no tuve respuesta, no se si la llegaste a recibir, te haré un fw