“Francis Thompson (!)” i
“My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.
My days have crackled and gone up in smoke,
Have puffed and burst as sun-starts on a stream.”
“The Hound of Heaven” by Francis Thompson
First chastised by a chase
Through London laudanum haze and haste
Up and down and down and out
Stop to have another taste
Nowhere to run to, baby, nowhere to hide ii
On this side of the great divide
The hound and words chasing fast
Will this misery ever pass?
Affliction, affliction, affliction
In desolate dereliction
Money not for pen or paper
Hopes dashed and end in vapor
Beating feet and voices beat
Futile to try and retreat
Heart beating in the heat
Stop those endless running feet
Angels, visions, lighted tapers
Heaven chased hare through all capers
Hound that hound chased him down
Naked, stripped, youth took flight
Majestic poem he did write
Finally stopped he sought the light
i Kerouac, Jack and Ginsberg, Allen: The Letters. Ed. Bill Morgan and David Stanford. (New York: Viking) 2010.
ii “Nowhere to Run,” Songwriters: Holland, Edward, Jr., Dozier, James, Herbert Lamont, Holland, Brian, EMI Music
This interview was conducted on 22nd May, 1988 at the Caffé Trieste in San Francisco...
In 1960, Allen Ginsberg accepted an invitation to attend a poetry conference in Chile. Th...
“The whole Beat scene had very little to do with the participation of women as artists the...
An interview with Ken Kesey's son.
There is nothing more American than a protest, than questioning authority and rebelling i...
“He looks so old!” was my first thought as the hospital elevator doors parted, revealing m...