Beat, Beat, Beat
Sunday School, the Boy Scout oath, high school civics class,
the Saturday afternoon serials of my youth. Taj Mahal.
You’re running heavy and your log book’s all fucked up.
Truckers. The John Birch Society. McCarthyism.
Little Deuce Coupe.
we wear. Rebel
without a cause. Sal Mineo. The
Gene
Krupa Story. Dodo Marmarosa off in
The Midway Lounge. Like to live those days again.
I wouldn’t. It gives me Night Sweats, just thinking
about it. My classmates “digging” rock and roll.
I read Waiting for Godot in Theater Arts magazine
in 1953. What was I—some kind of closet beatnik?
Hotwalker: Charles Bukowski & A Ballad for Gone
I walked polo ponies. Cooled them off. Don’t let them eat.
Porfirio Rubirosa playing for the
General Trujillo, the Butcher of the
Confidential magazine.