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Nebraska

April doesnt hurt

Like it does in New England The

Vast and brown Surrounds dry towns Located in the dust Of the coming

Live for survival, not for "kicks"Be a bangtail describer, like of shrouded traveler in Textile tenement & the birds fighting in yr ears-like Burroughs exact to describe & gettin $The Angry Hunger(hunger is anger)   who fears the   hungry feareth   the angry)And so I came

To Golden far away Twas on the horizon Every blessed day As we rolled And we

From Donner tragic Pass Thru April in Nevada And out Salt City Way Into the dry Nebraskas And sad Wyomings Where young girls And pretty lover boys With Mickey Mantle

Wander under moons Sawing in lost cradle And Judge O Fasterc Passes whiggling by To ask of young love: ,,

Was it the same wind Of April Plains eve that ruffled the

Of my lost

In the

Far off night      Lost as the whistle      Of the passing Train      Everywhere West      Roams moaning   The deep basso- Vom!

Vom!- Was it the same love Notified my bones As mortify yrs now Children of the soft Wyoming April night?   Couldna been!   But was!

But was!"And on the prairie The wildflower blows In the night For bees & birds And sleeping hidden Animals of life.

The

Spitters in the spotty street Cheap beans, loop,

Girls made eyes at me And I had 35 Cents in my jeans -Then Toledo Springtime starry Lover night Of hot rod boys And cool girls A wandering A

In search of April pain A plash of rain Will not dispel This fumigatin hell Of lover lane This park of roses Blue as

In former airy poses In aerial O Way hoses No tamarand And figancine Can the musterand Be less kind      Sol -      Sol -Bring forth yr Ah Sunflower - Ah me Montana Phosphorescent Rose And bridge in      fairly landI'd understand it all -

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Jack Kerouac

Jean-Louis Lebris de Kérouac (/ˈkɛruæk/,[2] March 12, 1922 – October 21, 1969), often known as Jack Kerouac, was an American novelist of French …

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