Everywhere, Giant Finned Cars Nose Forward Like

In The End, There Is No End.

Talking About The Past Is Like A Cat's Trying To Explain Climbing Down A Ladder.

Pity The Planet, All Joy Gone From This Sweet Volcanic Cone

It's A Completely Powerful And Serious Book, As Good As Anything In Prose Or Poetry Written By A 'beat' Writer, And One Of The Most Alive Books Written By Any American For Years. I Don't See How It Could Be Considered Immoral.

Middle Age At Forty-five, What Next, What Next? At Every Corner, I Meet My Father, My Age, Still Alive.