[dead man]

sitting sullen, mexico city simmers blue.
sambuca= mean drunk to you. the love i mean
seductive sexist. autistic fucking Buddy Holly resemblance

Whitman. Pullman cabs. waltz n jazz, volley of Misty Blue-
tenor, drawling sax. San Francisco valley ballyhoo

you've accomplished with this work a stylistic authenticity that many including myself often tease but rarely overcome gracefully. sepia backgrounds and a 1960's piano man. jessica rabbit belongs in this time period.

i am not confident enough in my spanish to comment on that fourth stanza. a rough translation might even help bring everything full circle for me.

too noir for Kerouac.
a different age. it was greater grace then any song I blare or blast
and thinner than the coarsest page, passage filled with her barefoot pawprints, i caught her after,
kissing honest tunes in her barest stockings, intoxicated, lost in the missing chapter of our jaded absolute

this is a beat poet's soulful exchange with urbanity. 'on the road' has eluded me for many years. maybe i'll dust a copy off.

really excellent writing, even for a sketch-up

i would advise you continue down this avenue and see where it leads you, but keep your sense of plasticity while doing so

thanks split.




1