365Caws is now in its 14th year of publication, and was originally intended to end after 365 days. It has sometimes been difficult for me to find new material, particularly during the winter months, but now as I enter my own twilight years, I cannot guarantee that I will be able to provide daily posts. It is my hope that along the way I may have inspired someone to a greater curiosity about the natural world. If so, I can rest, content in the knowledge that my work here has been done.
Friday, October 31, 2014
The Beat Generation
Day 18: We were hip, baby.
We were cool.
Gimme five and lay down some jazz, daddy-o,
and don't be square.
Those nights in the coffee shop,
making the world over,
Conforming to a standard for nonconformity,
Hip cats, hepcats jivin'
to Patchen and the skins,
On the road to Nowheresville
Behind
Our shades.
We were gone, man.
Gone!
We birthed a new generation,
Paisley-patterned rebel sons and daughters of our blackness.
What goes around comes around, daddy-o,
We got ours.
Oh, yes, we did.
But we were hip, baby,
Hip to the end.
We were cool.
Now lay down some jazz and let me read a line or two because
(Can you dig it?) -
the beat goes on.
Labels:
Beat Generation,
beatnik,
bongo drums,
costume,
Hallowe'en,
poetry
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