All He Needed Was A Wheel In

The Beat Generation, That Was A Vision That We Had, John Clellon Holmes And I, And Allen Ginsberg In An Even Wilder Way, In The Late Forties, Of A Generation Of Crazy, Illuminated Hipsters Suddenly Rising And Roaming America, Serious, Bumming And Hitchhiking Everywhere, Ragged, Beatific, Beautiful In An Ugly Graceful New Way.

Goddamn It, Feeling Is What I Like In Art, Not Craftiness And The Hiding Of Feelings.

All I Wanted To Do Was Sneak Out Into The Night And Disappear Somewhere, And Go And Find Out What Everybody Was Doing All Over The Country.

I Was Suddenly Left With Nothing In My Hands But A Handful Of Crazy Stars.

Here I Was At The End Of America...no More Land...and Nowhere Was Nowhere To Go But Back