All the accomplishments in my world, and all my ambitions have been crushed because of you.
your beautiful prose, and disturbing imagery make me cry and weep because I know I will never meet your literary genius.
the metaphors, images, sentences, absence of punctuation, improper grammar, yakketayakking screaming vomiting, your beautiful emotions of disturbed evil.
the simple subtle serenade to your one deep love, creating romance out of harlequin speeches of suicide,
the disturbing beauty of demanding instantaneous lobotomy.
the sex, drugs, religion, death, boxcars boxcars boxcars, and the natural honesty of jazz or sex or soup.
Since when have potheads and junkies been called angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection?
since when has political commentary consisted of the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism?
and since when has someone been so fearless as to say what he means, and mean what he says?
none before would have the courage to create such social unrest, and refuse to conform to conformity.
semen, cocksman, whoring, hungover, red eyed in supernatural ecstasy, fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, leaving the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago.
what can I say?
No such beautiful horror can ever be achieved by someone so nobody as I am.
your Howl for perfection is met with a cry of admiration, where I say love, you say dear sweet rosy unattainable desire.
how do I change and become as perfect a proseman as you?
how do I change and formulate such a perfect political outcry as go fuck yourself with your atom bomb?
I cannot change to become the perfect poet, because the perfect poet has already spoken the holy words that will be forever echoed in heaven as the perfect Howl of all humanity.
-Santa Cruz, 2011
GK
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