...the prettiest girls in the world live in Des Moines.
Jack KerouacOne night I was meditating in such perfect stillness that two mosquitoes came and sat on each of my cheekbones and stayed there a long time without biting and then went away.
Jack KerouacThere's the hum of the bee drone two blocks away the racket of it you'd think it was right over the roof, when the bee drone swirls nearer and nearer (gulp again) you retreat into the cabin and wait, maybe they got a message to come and see you all two thousand of em- but gettin used to the bee drone finally which seem to happen like a big party once a week- and so everything is eventually marvelous.
Jack KerouacParis is a woman but London is an independent man puffing his pipe in a pub.
Jack KerouacAnd all the insects ceased in honor of the moon.
Jack KerouacSixty three sunsets I saw revolve on that perpendicular hill – mad raging sunsets pouring in sea foams of cloud through unimaginable crags like the crags you grayly drew in pencil as a child, with every rose-tint of hope beyond, making you feel just like them, brilliant and bleak beyond words. –
Jack KerouacI never dwelt on the dark farcical furious real life of this roaring working world, wow.
Jack KerouacMientras duermo los tres se van (hacen bien) a la playa, en el coche de Sand, a treinta kilómetros de la casa; los muchachos se zambullen, nadan, Mardou se pasea por las orillas de la eternidad, mientras sus pies y los dedos de sus pies que yo tanto amo se imprimen en la arena clara, pisando las conchillas y las anémonas y las algas secas y empobrecidas, lavadas por las mareas y el viento que le despeina el cabello corto, como si la Eternidad se hubiera encontrado con Heavenly Lane (así se me ocurrió mientras estaba en la cama). (Al imaginarla por otra parte paseándose sin rumbo, con una mueca de aburrimiento, sin saber qué hacer, abandonada por Leo el Sufriente, y realmente sola e incapaz de conversar acerca de todos los fulanos, menganos y zutanos de la historia del arte con Bromberg y Sand, ¿qué podía hacer?)
Jack KerouacTag: kerouac the-subterraneans mardou
The inside of the cabin with the fire finally going is still the dear lovable abode now as sharp in my mind as I look at it as an unusually well focused snapshot---The sprig of ferns still stands in a glass of water, the books are there, the neat groceries ranged along the wall shelves
Jack Kerouac–Levántate y date una ducha, cabrón.
–¿Qué pasa?
–A mí no me vengas con qué pasa. Anoche fumaste marihuana.
–Pero no era nada buena, de todos modos –dije, y me fui al baño.
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