I saw the best …

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking
for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection
to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyes and high sat up
smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats
floating across the tops of the cities contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Moham
-medan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallu-
cinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the
scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing
obscene odes on the windows of the skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their
money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror
through the wall… … …

Howl by Allen Ginsberg (Penguin Modern classics)

If i can say the entire Part I off by heart then…

my dream is stand on a bar stool and recite the entire thing, word for word,

sound for sound,

pause for crazy pause…

and feel that euphoric moment in time and space that Ginsberg created through his spoken word all those years ago…

then, and only then

it will be absolutely legendary.

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