Book of Blues by Jack Kerouac Read Free Book Online Page A

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    â€”Oy—
    This turp then, he was smart,
    His wife was bloomer-hiding
    Dress-thief, best, New York,
    â€”Oir—
    Ay
    May the Wild Queen that Whanged
    All the men with pipes
    And ironingboard trays, i the
    Movie bout paird?—
    Waird!
    Haird all about it in Dawson
    Lass night, boys was tellin
    The stove of the night
    Hair—Robert Olson
    Me that, Mrs Blake

5TH CHORUS
    Pollyanna me that, Matt
    Baker me Mary me Eddy
    somethin bout life,—
    Feed me T bone steaks
    Off cows was allowed
    Was allowed to be et
    By men and maids
    And Pomfranet
    Poignardi me that,
    hurt,—slip me the knife
    in the chest, het—
    they’ll cut off my arms
    and my losen legs
    And my Peter Orlovsky
    Clasel soul shall say:
    Oido me no mo

6TH CHORUS
    Ah moidnous two movies
    Was railroad and et
    Ah turpitude & turpentine
    And serpentine & pine
    Ah me star-veil
    that I see
    Majesticking mightily
    on the rail
    Of heaven-hailward
    high’s moitang
    Montana, me mountain,
    Me Madonna, me high
    Me most marvelous marvel
    That held over the pie
    Me sky of the Denver
    Platte alley below
    Me that me, me that me,
    Me that me no more

7TH CHORUS
    Brang!—blong!—trucks
    Break glass i the dog barking
    Street—dwang, wur,
    Ta ta ta
    ta ta
    Me that was weaned in the
    heaven’s machine
    Me that was wailed
    in the wild bar
    called fence
    Me that repeated & petered
    The meter & lost 2 cents
    Me that was fined
    To be hined
    And refined
    Ay
    Me that was
    Whoo ee
    The owl
    On the fence

8TH CHORUS
    Me that was eyed
    And betied by the eyes
    In the glasses, In the Place,
    In the night, brown beer,
    Me that was maitled
    And draitled and dragged
    Me that was xarmined
    By Murder Machree
    Me that was blarnied
    By Mary Carney
    Me that was loved
    Me that was hay
    Me that the sunshine
    Burned out every day
    Me that was spotted
    And beshatted
    By Marcus Magee

9TH CHORUS
    Hey listen you poetry audiences
    If you dont shut up
    And listen to the potry,
    See, we’ll get a guy at the gate
    To bar all potry haters
    Forevermore
    Then, if you dont like the subject
    Of the poem that the poit
    Is readin, geen, why dont
    You try Marlon Brando
    Who’ll open your eyes
    With his cry
    James Dean is dead?—
    Aint we all?
    Who aint dead—
    John Barrymore is dead
    Naw, San Francisco is dead
    â€”San Francisco is bleat
    With the fog
    (And the fences are cold)

10TH CHORUS
    Old, San Francisco so old,
    Shining garden on the end of the gate
    Great plastic garden
    Full of poets and hate
    Fine wild bar place with high
    Flootin dandies, Portugese,
    Philippino, and just plain
    Ole Dandy, Mandy tendin
    The bar in the Brothers McCoy
    On Sixth Street near Mission,
    And Old Whitecap Sailor
    Goes lonely the road
    And Market Street on Sunday
    There’s no body broad
    And O I see cliffside
    With electrical magic
    Message it me gives out
    And sending Einstein
    Me n McCorkle sit there
    Eating in the Dharma

11TH CHORUS
    We booted and we brained
    Every seedy wet cold hill
    And walked by rubber gardens
    Behind telephones of shame
    And came out mid the flowers
    Of Heaven’s O Gate
    We treed every boner
    Kited and committed
    Longtailed and selffloored
    And worked 78 to Del Monte
    And back
    Crashed Lux Perpetua
    And tied up the mate
    And dumped him down
    In Chinatown
    To Vegetate
    So’s cooks could clew garbage
    And discover entrails
    of babies made by Negresses
    Against fences of taxis

12TH CHORUS
    Soft!—the mysteries lie
    In Eglantine
    And Tathagata Nous Dit
    Toujours, pas d secour,
    Pas d secour
    Soft—pie-tailed bird-dog
    Sing Song Charley the Poet
    From High Masquerade
    Is about to shake the rain
    From his empty head
    And deliver a blurbery statement
    About bubbles and balloons
    Balloons O balloons
    BALLOONS BALLOONS
    BALLOONS O BALLOONS
    BAL
    LOONS
    BALLOONS

13TH CHORUS
    When the rain falls on the Concord
    And grapes are growing in New Hampshire
    Mud hides wine bottles of green
    And gay delight—When it rains
    In Mexico, Oi