And the Beat Goes On

Pilgrim State's Rockland's and Greystone's foetid halls, bickering with the

echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench

dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare, bodies turned to

stone as heavy as the moon,
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash

of the alchemy of the use of the ellipse the catalog the meter & the

vibrating plane,

the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here

what might be left to say in time come after death,

and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow

of the band and blew the suffering of America's naked mind for love