Beatnick

p { margin-bottom: 0.1in; line-height: 120%; }a:link { }

I want to speak with Dean

In drug laced ecstasy, beatification grasping him

Holy saint of sin

On the Road again

I want to speak to Carlo

Oppressed, and caught by full blown AIDs

Dogged hound of homosexuality

Constantly on the run

I want to speak with Salvatore

Constantly lagging behind, first only in death

Quiet man of morality

Constantly on the trail

I guess I’ll just live ecstatically

To offend conservatives, who are always offended

I guess I’ll just read howl

To people who don’t understand, who never will understand

I guess I’ll just journey constantly

To chase the people, people run from

Holy bliss, sweet remiss, the devils kiss

Dear, feds, society, my fellow Americans

Screw your bias, fuck your preconceptions,

I’ll lay in the dirt, and fuck your social norms

I’ll practice peace and love, I’ll practice what you only preach

Though god has no business with them—

God rest the souls’ of the BEATS

 

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741