kerouac is back, jack!


plunking kerouackian haikus on an old underwood today in the shade of the governor’s palace, in santa fe; the soul of the scroll, the scrolling soul of jack, thunderous prose of written revolution driving across the desert at noon; don’t waste your life trying to surf just online glossy roads, go out there and catch this scroll, if you dare, the first ultimate dusty original streaming manuscript of “on the road”; the beats of all times are watching us typing hard to create new old haikus, we true knowledge riders, we ageless angelic beats, shouting shouting “kerouac is back, jack!”


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