I’m happy, Kerouac, your madman’s Allen’s
finally made it: discovered a new young cat,
and my imagination of an eternal boy
walks on the streets of San Francisco,
handsome, and meets me in cafeterias
and loves me, Ah don’t think I’m sickening.
You’re angry at me. For all my lovers?
It’s hard to eat shit, without having visions;
when they have eyes for me it’s like Heaven.
Malest Cornifici Tuo Catullo : Latin for
Things are bad for your Catullus, Cornificus