Our Desires / Jack Kerouac

There is a wind that seeks the crevice
under my heart
the way insects file at night
beneath a doorway


Its edges are rough, it slits
the cords.It trips my steady breathing.
When it comes there is no one
I can trust.


It seems, at times, I have designed
too well this vision of you.
I cannot survive your eyes
when they are scarred with a need
for some lesser form of love.


I admit to this conceit.
And though you will not accept it
You love it nonetheless


It is just like you.Our desires
will always be kept sharp
by a kind of perversity.A need
to be each forever alone….


Its color is violet, like lips
that have been smashed by nights
or robbed of blood by lack of breath.
The wind I was speaking of does this.

I can feel it now.

On Tears / Jack Kerouac

Tears is the break of my brow,
The moony tempestuous
Sitting down

In dark railyards
When to see my mother’s face
Recalling from the waking vision
I wept to understand
The trap mortality
And personal blood of earth
Which saw me in—

Father father

Why hast thou forsaken me?
Mortality & unpleasure
Roam this city—

Unhappiness my middle name
I want to be saved,--
Sunk—can’t be
Won’t be
Never was made—
So retch!