-
Really I wrote "Howl" for Jack.
-
who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride
-
from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine
-
until the noise of wheels and children
-
brought them down,
-
shuddering mouth wracked and battered bleak of brain
-
all drained of brilliance
-
in the drear light of zoo,
-
who talked continuously 70 hours
-
from park to pad to bar to Bellevue
-
to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,
-
A lost battalion of platonic conversationalists