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it comes out clean.

      Everything (after a gasp)

      is fine, already really.

      Whatever it was.

      “Anyway it happened”

      Says Allen (Poe) Ginsberg –

      Quote from Plato right?

      Time on a Bat – growl of truck.

       36th Chorus

      No direction

      No direction to go

      Burroughs says it’s a time-space

      travel ship

      Connected with mystiques

      and mysteries

      Of he claims transcendental

      majesties,

      Pulque green crabapples

      of hypnotic dream

      In hanging Ecuad vine.

      Burroughs says, We have destiny,

      Last of the Faustian Men.

      No direction in the void

      Is the news from the void

      In touch with the void

      Everywhere void

      No direction to go

      (but)

      (in) ward

      Hm

      (ripping of paper indicates

      helplessness anyway)

       37th Chorus

      Mad about the Boy –

      Tune – Fué –

      Going along with the dance

      Lester Young in eternity

      blowing his horn alone

      Alone – Nobody’s alone

      For more than a minute.

      Growl, low, tenorman,

      Work out your tune till the day

      Is break, smooth out the rough night,

      Wail,

      Break their Beatbutton bones

      On the Bank of Broad

      England Ah Patooty

      Teaward Time

      Of Proust & bearded

      Majesty

      In rooms of dun ago

      in long a lash

      alarum speakum

      mansions tennessee

      of gory william tree

      – (remember that little

      box of tacks?)

       38th Chorus

      (Pome beginning with parenthesis:–

      God!)

      Garver has an Aztec Hammer

      To batter the tacks in

      It’s made of Pyramid Stone

      The shape of a Knot –

      Cleopatra’s Knot –

      The Knotty issue Marc

      Brandelian Antonio

      Julius Marc McAnthony

      Thorny horn of hare

      Propensities and hair

      And disgusting to the bare.

      Aztec Hammer, never stop.

      Folded ripplefold over there

      nice,

      Tacks went in,

      “It’s take an artist

      to do all this”

      Careful man of cellophane

      decks

      &

      sometimes

      ceremonial

      silver foil

      but

      usually

      plain pleasant paper

       39th Chorus

      Comfortable Patience –

      Talkin about a Hobbyman

      Who draws cartoons for a livin,

      Bangin in tacks carefully

      For King Features Syndicate

      Has got him by the balls

      And Hammerthongs

      And central Goonyak

      Worp Ward

      Orphantail –

      Aztec Stick –

      ugly Spew Smoke

      Dragon Beoryen

      smitherwolf

      Wildstar

      Monster Over the Fence

      is Frankenstein

      Careful, true, Nirvana,

      Patient in his Comfort,

      Humble in his Demands,

      Weary of the Fear,

      No longer fearing

      The fair happy air

      Permeated with Cherub

      And fingers a pair

      In V Victory – meaning One

       40th Chorus

      Did bespat and beshit himself Rabelais,

      Roundelay, singing with a chocolate

      mouth

      Did tangle in the gangles

      of legs’ hair

      And scream with the wine

      in his glut.

      “What do you think?”

      This cover is most excellent,

      It’s shiny and red,

      This car will do nicely

      All over the bed.

      Rabelais was a mad nut

      And also a doctor

      And wrote of priests’ jocks

      In 1492

      Wha’ hoppen in Oaxaca?

      – gluts rained glut

      guts out of her

      brimy bottard

      and washed the old man’s

      river underwear

       41st Chorus

      That other part of your mind

      Where everything’s refined

      To thin hare screamers

      Must be in the cavern

      Somewhere.

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