Desolation Angels by Jack Kerouac

Author:Jack Kerouac
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781504034012
Publisher: Open Road Media

93

We all sit on a curbstone and Raphael collapses sitting crosslegged in the road facing us and begins talking and gesturing in the air those hands—Some of us are sitting crosslegged—It’s a long speech he makes which has drunken triumph in it, we’re all drunk, but it’s also got that bird-pure triumph of Raphael’s anyway but here come the cops, and pull up in a cruiser. I get up and say “Let’s go, we’re making too much noise” and everybody’s following me but the cops walk in on us and want to know who we are.

“We just came from that big party over there.”

“Well you been makin too much noise—We got three calls from the neighbors”

“We’re leaving,” I say, and start off, and besides now the cops dig the big bearded Irwin Abraham and the suave gentlemanly David and the crazy dignified painter and then they see Lazarus and Simon, and they decide it would be too much in the station-house, which it surely would have been—I wanta instruct my bhikkhus to avoid the authorities, it’s written in the Tao, it’s the only way—It’s the only straight line, right through—

Now we own the world, we buy wine on Market Street and jump all eight in buses and drink in the back and get off and go shouting down the middle of streets big long conversations—We climb a hill and go over a long path and up to a grass sidewalk top overlooking the lights of Frisco—We sit in the grass and drink wine—All talking—Then up to a man’s pad, a house with a yard, a big Hi-Fi electromagnetic poo-bah big phonograph and they boom big numbers, organ masses—Levesque the painter falls down and thinks Simon’s hit him, and comes crying to tell us—I start crying because Simon hit somebody, it’s all drunk and sentimental, David finally leaves—But Lazarus “seen it,” saw Levesque fall and hurt himself, and turns out next morning nobody hit nobody—An evening somewhat silly but filled with a triumph that was surely a drunken triumph.

In the morning Levesque comes with notebook and I tell him “Nobody hit you!”

“Well I’m glad to hear that!” he bellows—I’d once said to him “You must be my brother that died in 1926 and was a great painter and drawer at nine, when were you born?” but now I realize it’s not the same person at all—if so, Karma has twisted. Levesque is earnest with big blue eyes and eager to help and very humble but suddenly too he’ll go mad before your eyes and do a mad dance in the street that scares me. Also he laughs “Mwee hee hee ha ha” and hovers behind you …

I study his notebook, sit on the porch looking at the city, spend a quiet day, sketch pictures with him (one picture I sketch of Raphael asleep, Levesque says “O that’s the Raphael-waist all right”)—Then Lazarus and I dribble ghosts into his notebook with our crazy cartoon pencils. I’d like to see them again, especially

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.