Читать книгу Mexico City Blues - Jack Kerouac - Страница 35
29th Chorus
Оглавление“Man, now, you wont let me talk”
Gripes the irreligious feline cat –
That cat has no trumpet
But bubblegum to blow on
Poor sad Bhikku of the Forest
Of poor, lost little Nino
In Calles of Forever,
Streets of Old Burma,
Be saved secret wretched
Urchin brother hero
You are protected
By the Guardians
of
the
Alone
All is alone, you dont have to talk
One Light, One Transcendental Ecstasy
If they dont understand that
In the South, it’s because
All their Baptists
Have not been to Shool