The only people for me are the mad ones,
the ones who are mad to talk,
mad to live,
mad to be saved,
desirous of everything at the same time,
the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing,
but
burn
burn
burn
like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars
and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes, ‘Awww.’
Jack Keroac