So I was reading this book called "Illuminated Poems," a collection of Ginsberg poems matched with art works by Eric Drooker. It's a really sweet book in case you are interested in experiencing Ginsberg's poems in a new way. The art along with them is really intense, worthy of being coupled with the brilliance of Ginsberg. Anyway, so I finished reading that book and started reading Naked Lunch for the second time. "Illuminated Poems" put me in a better state of mind than the last time I picked up Naked Lunch, because this time I felt in rhythm with Burroughs. I guess the right frame of mind, for me at least, is outside normal comprehension of cohesive mathematical statements, but somewhere in the beautiful and electrifying chaos of colliding abstractions. Well, after reading for awhile, I took a break, but was still stuck in the rapid stream of poetic ramblings and couldn't stop my train of thought from continuing them. So this is what I ended up with before resuming my reading...
Words as broken and formless as an armless man scribbling verse with a shattered pencil clutched between mud-plastered feet, splinters digging into the ones left festering beneath the skin...
Visions that invade his erasing consciousness without hands to grasp them before disappearing into graveyard mist hovering over the back of the mind like a tumor eating away at whatever identity was given to you...
and your only hope of salvation rests in the fantasy that putting them down on already burnt paper might give them back to the self...
But as the dream fades into a hunger as insatiable as a virus, the splinters suffered during the meager attempt at transcendence burst with black pus to cover the incomprehensible scratching made by feet too weak to follow their own dirty footprints...
If only you could muster up the strength to hurl yourself out the window into the streets too busy to notice the body they have to step over, you might just make the newsreel scroll as it streams away across the bottom of the screen too quickly for the mind to care what it has to say, just a flash of lightning life only to be swept away before anyone even knows you were there...
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