Book of Sketches - Jack Kerouac [11]
— It is very bleak
& I only give you the
picture of this bleakness.
By bleakness I mean:
unnatural, stiff, lost
in a void it cant
understand, — in a
void to which it has no
relation because of the
transiency of its function,
to earn money by delivering
oil. But it has
a neat Tao of its
own. In any case this
scene is of no interest
to me. & is only an
example. A scene
should be selected by
the writer, for haunted-
ness-of-mind interest.
If you’re not haunted
by something, as by a
dream, a vision, or
a memory, which are
involuntary, you’re not
interested or even involved.
SKETCH WRITTEN IN OUELLETTE’S LUNCH IN LOWELL MASS. 1954
“Ya rien plus pire qu’un
enfant malade —
a lava les runs — j’aita assez découragez
j brauilla avec — ”
“Un ti peu d gravy*
d tu?” — “Staussi bien . . . Mourire
chez nous que mourire
la” — “L’matin
yava les yieux griautteux”
— “J fa jama deux
journée d’suite” —
“J mallez prende
une marche — ” “Comme
qui fa beau apramidi ha?”
“A tu lavez les vites?”
— “J ai lavez toute les
vites du passage” —
“Qui mange dla
marde”
“A lava les yeux
pochées — tsé quand
qu’on s leuve des foit?”
CAT SKETCH ON THE CONCORD RIVER (1954)
The Perfect Blue Sky
is the Reality, all 6
Essential Senses abide
there in perfect
indivisible Unity
Forever — but
here down on the
stain of earth the
ethereal flower in
our minds, dead
cats in the Concord,
it’s a temporary
middle state between
Perfection of
the Unborn & Perfection
of the
Dead — the Restored
to Enlightened
Emptiness — Compromise
me no more, “Life”
— the cat had no
self, was but the
victim of accumulated
Karma, made
by Karma, removed
by Karma (death)
— What we
call life is just
this lugubrious
false stain in the
crystal emptiness
— The cat in waters
“hears” Diamond
Samadhi, “sees”
Transcendental Sight —
“smells” Trans. odor,
“tastes” Trans. taste,
“feels” Trans. feeling,
“thinks” Trans. thot
the one Thot
— So I am not
sad for him —
Concord River RR
Bridge
Sunday Oct 24 ’54
Lowell
5 PM
A ridiculous N E
tumbleweed danced
across the RR Bridge
Thoreau’s Concord
is blue aquamarine
in October red
sereness — little
Indian hill towards
Walden, is orange
brown with Autumn —
The faultless sky
attests to T’s solemn
wisdom being correct
— but perfect Wisdom
is Buddha’s
Today I start teaching
by setting the example
not words only
ROCKY MOUNT 1952 (again) WHILE HITCH HIKING BACK FROM NORFOLK VA.
“You done lost the
man’s hole . . . Smart
Alex.”
N.C. — Near Woodland N.C.
Hams hanging by wild
bulb-bugs in hot
N.C. nite — sad dust
of driveway, scattered
softdrink hot-day
bottles, old crates
sunk in earth for
steps, pumps (Premium
& Pure Pep) —
hillbilly music in car
— trucks growling
thru — old tire,
rake — old concrete
block — old bench —
& tufts of green
grass seen au bord du
chemin quand les
machines passes —
L —
ROCKY MOUNT CAR SHOP (RAILROAD)
Yard in afternoon of
August — bright red
drum shining in bright green
& yellow grass-weeds, buds, —
old used rusty brakeshoes
& parts piled —
Sooty old woodwarp
ramp — in weeds —
fat RR clerk with
baseball hat walking
across, cigar, scratching
head, removing hat —
will go home to dogs,
radio, wife, blond boy
on a tricycle in white
bungalow — Old A.C.L.
Railway Exp Ag. 441
weather-brown
Cracked cars — 2, 3
of them — nameless
parts arranged in
weeds by tired Negro
workers — Puff sweet
Carolina clouds in sultry
blue over head — my
eyes smarting from fresh
paint in office, from
no sleep — drowsy
office like school days,
with sleepy rustles of
desk papers & lunch-in-
the-belly — hate it —
SP is in cool, dry
Western, romantic Frisco
of bays — with —
hills of purple eve &
mystery — & Neal
— — here is fuzzy,
unclear, hot, South,
hot turpentined poles
at tracks that lead
to Morehead City, Sea &
Africa — & impossible
lead tho — just dull
fat cops & people in
heat — Easonburg is
better.
DIDNT HAVE PENCIL with
me to sketch the
bluebells that climb
up