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which was the complete step across chronological time into timeless shadows
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and wonderment in the bleakness of the mortal realm
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and the sensation of death kicking at my heels to move on
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with a phantom dogging its own heels and myself hurrying to a plank
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where all the angels dove off
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and flew into the holy void of uncreated emptiness,
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the potent and inconceivable radiancies shining
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in bright mind essence,
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innumerable lotuslands
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falling open in the magic mothswarm of heaven.
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That language at the end there is pure Allen Ginsberg.
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So, that's that incantatory Beat mysticism.