Tag Archives: jack kerouac

Jack Kerouac

Cinematic poetic tribute to Jack Kerouac, honoring his centennial birthday (March 12, 2022).

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The Last Days of Jack Kerouac, a film-poem

March 12, 2022 marks the centennial birthday of Jack Kerouac. As one of my first literary crushes, and a seminal influence, I felt compelled to honor Jean-Louis Lebris de Kerouac and his singular contribution to the land of literature, with … Continue reading

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The Last Days of Jack Kerouac, a film-poem

1. Setting: A waterfront saloon. The wooden floor thatched in dull golden sawdust plus the acrid scent of piss wafting in from the urinal. 2. Cut to: A broad-shouldered man slumped on his barstool. The camera notices that the legs … Continue reading

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October’s Bones

In honor of the 50th anniversary of Jack Kerouac’s “death-day” departure for roads unknown. When I was a young man, a budding scribe eager to blossom white fire, and scabbed lotuses, you meant the world to me. You exposed me … Continue reading

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Crash and Burn

South of no man’s border the landing strip was effaced by stones. Avalanche, they claimed. You kept on flying, critically low on fuel, never dreaming the side of a mountain might find you asleep too full of sky.  

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Kerouac

Happy birthday (March 12th), Jack Kerouac! My poem from Arclight honoring the man behind the mythical scrolls. When I was a young man, a budding scribe eager to blossom white fire, and scabbed lotuses, you meant the world to me. … Continue reading

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Jack Kerouac

When I was a young man, a budding scribe eager to blossom white fire, and scabbed lotuses, you meant the world to me. You exposed me to velocity bop and piggyback rhythms, to applepie windowsill jazz and summerlight porchswings, to … Continue reading

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Scroll

One man’s boyish scroll as the road map for parched throats– Long-running well-spring.

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Jack Kerouac

The sea of white noise fathoming secret wavelengths– scribe tuned to angels.

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Memory Babe

(In honor of Jack Kerouac’s birthday, March 12th, an excerpt from my Greyhound travelogue, “Stray Passages”)    I discovered Kerouac, by chance, when I was nineteen and as a wide-eyed babe greedily suckling Kerouac’s vision-engorged tit, that  which he had … Continue reading

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