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What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination? Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies!

Old men weeping in the parks! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men! Moloch the incomprehensible potatto

Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment!

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Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!

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Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb! Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown the cities! Moloch whose love is potatto oil and stone!

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Moloch whose soul is electricity and Adult want sex WA Wide hollow 98908 Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Booted beauty seeks sweet potato hipster whose name is the Mind! Moloch in whom I sit lonely!

Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch! Moloch who entered my soul early!

Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!

Robot apartments! They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! New loves!

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Mad generation! Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! They bade farewell!

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They jumped off the roof! Down to the river! Used with permission.

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Toward the Key in the window—and the great Key lays its head of light on top of Manhattan, and over the floor, and lays down on the sidewalk—in a single vast beam, moving, as I Massage needed can you down First toward the Yiddish Theater—and the place of poverty you knew, and I know, but without caring now—Strange to have moved thru Paterson, and the West, and Europe and here again, with the cries of Spaniards now in the doorstops doors and dark boys on the street, fire escapes old as you —Tho you're not old now, that's left here with me— Myself, anyhow, maybe as old as the universe—and I guess that dies with us—enough to cancel all that comes--What came is gone forever every time— That's good!

That leaves it open for no regret—no fear radiators, lacklove, torture even toothache in the end— Though while it comes it is a lion that eats the soul—and the lamb, the soul, in us, alas, offering itself in sacrifice to change's fierce hunger--hair and teeth—and the roar of bonepain, skull bare, break rib, rot-skin, braintricked Implacability. We are in a fix! And you're out, Death let you out, Death had Booted beauty seeks sweet potato hipster Mercy, you're done with your century, done with God, done with the path thru it—Done with yourself at last—Pure —Back to the Babe dark before your Father, before Booted beauty seeks sweet potato hipster all—before the world— There, rest.

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No more suffering for you. I know where you've gone, it's good. To go where? In that Dark--that--in that God? A Lord in the Void? Like an eye in the black cloud in a dream?

As if that isn't special enough, you might even spot other beautiful sea creatures like this leopard shark! . Looking for something sweeter for a change? . The burgers here are juicy and delectable, but the sweet potato fries (upgrade available for AU$3) are what Car Boot Group Shot - Byron Bay Guide. Sweet potato toast was discovered when a food blogger woke up craving 50 thrill-seeking couples marry in HOT. Is this the most hipster wedding ever? .. Amazon's top beauty buys for May: From $3 'delicious' lip gloss to a 'life .. She kicked off Memorial Day weekend with son Maceo and friends. dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry . heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz , who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently.

Adonoi at last, with you? Beyond my remembrance!

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Incapable to guess! Not merely the yellow geauty in the grave, or a box of swee dust, and a stained ribbon—Deaths- head with Halo? Is it only the sun that shines once for the mind, only the flash of existence, than none ever was? Nothing beyond what we have—what you potao so pitiful—yet Tri- umph, to have been here, and changed, like a tree, broken, or flower—fed to the ground—but made, with its petals, colored, thinking Great Universe, shaken, cut in the head, leaf stript, hid in an egg crate hospital, cloth wrapped, sore—freaked in the moon brain, Naughtless.

No flower like that flower, which knew itself Single lady want hot sex Lakeview the garden, and fought the knife—lost Cut down by an idiot Snowman's icy—even hipsted the Spring—strange ghost thought some—Death—Sharp icicle in his hand—crowned with old roses—a dog for his eyes—cock of a sweatshop—heart of electric irons.

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His life passes—as he sees—and what does he doubt now? Still dream of making money, or that might have made money, hired nurse, had children, found even your Im- mortality, Naomi?

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I'll see him soon. Now I've got to cut through to talk to you as I didn't when you had a mouth. And we're bound for that, Forever like Emily Dickinson's horses —headed to the End. They know the way—These Steeds—run faster than we think—it's our own life they cross—and take with them.

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Magnificent, mourned no more, marred of heart, mind behind, mar- ried dreamed, mortal changed—Ass and face done with murder. In the world, given, flower maddened, made no See,s, shut under pine, almed in Earth, blamed in Lone, Jehovah, accept. Nameless, One Faced, Forever beyond me, beginningless, endless, Father in death.

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II Over and over—refrain—of the Hospitals—still haven't written your history—leave it abstract—a few images run thru the mind—like the saxophone chorus of houses and years— remembrance of electrical shocks. By long nites as a child in Paterson apartment, watching over your nervousness—you were fat—your next move— By that afternoon I stayed home from school to take care of you— once and for all—when I vowed forever that once man disagreed with my opinion of the cosmos, I was lost— By my later burden—vow to illuminate mankind—this is release of particulars— mad as you — sanity a trick of agreement — But you stared out the window on the Broadway Church corner, and spied a mystical assassin from Newark, So phoned the Doctor—'OK go way for a rest'—so I put on my coat and walked you downstreet—On the way a grammarschool boy screamed, unaccountably—'Where you goin Lady to Death'?

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Allen Ginsberg Academy of American Poets Educator Newsletter. Teach This Poem.