A funy thing happened on my way to hear Kerouac reading Kerouac -
SPRING
The persistent memory, déjà vu, feelings of renewal all of a sudden
going off like an alarm clock, a broken alarm clock that
sometimes crows at 5 am, other times well after dawn;
and that sun, moving my way, incrementally encouraging,
making pronouncements of the new, then gone,
late to the party, unrepresented, but there, somewhere, all the same.
Not like the fall, when the hide and seek is much more ominous,
the days visibly diminishing before your eyes;
No, not like fall, not at all…like that
remorseful feeling, restlessly sad, motivated to nothing
and nowhere, not knowing what to do with yourself,
no promise, full of the blues turning to grey.
SPRING
The persistent memory, déjà vu, feelings of renewal all of a sudden
going off like an alarm clock, a broken alarm clock that
sometimes crows at 5 am, other times well after dawn;
and that sun, moving my way, incrementally encouraging,
making pronouncements of the new, then gone,
late to the party, unrepresented, but there, somewhere, all the same.
Not like the fall, when the hide and seek is much more ominous,
the days visibly diminishing before your eyes;
No, not like fall, not at all…like that
remorseful feeling, restlessly sad, motivated to nothing
and nowhere, not knowing what to do with yourself,
no promise, full of the blues turning to grey.