Saturday 14 August 2010

Poem: Beats

Jack Kerouac once looked out

From a body like mine:

Saw the curtains hanging
And heard the cars outside.

Jack put records on the gramophone,
Staring down at his own hands.

Jack held and changed opinions
Depending on his heart,

Which fluttered and decayed inside him
Like any other heart.

And any other heart
Beats like this and yet persists

In living, heartened.

21 July 2003

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