In addition to the interesting Kerouac video we found (with Steve Allen playing Jazz) -- in our Awesome Artist page above -- I'll have to find one in which Kerouac reads his poems...he's such an interesting character to watch.
Speaking of Jazz, it's referenced here and can be found referenced in much of Keouacs work. His writing did reflect the spontaneity of jazz - the free flowing of thoughts, yet still following patterns and certain defined parameters -- this work was relaxing and somehow inspires readers to "click their fingers".
This poem comes from his City Lights (Ferlinghetti) Pocket publication "Scattered Poems".
Way out, man.
The Thrashing Doves
By Jack Kerouac
In the back of the dark chinese store
in a wooden jailhouse bibbet box
with dust of hay on the floor, rice
where the rice bags are leaned,
beyond the doomed peekokoos in the box
All the little doves'll die.
As well the peekotoos--eels
--they'll bend chickens' necks back
oer barrels and slice at Samsara
the world of eternal suffering with silver
blades as thin as the ice in Peking
As thick and penetrable as the Wall of China
the rice darkness of that store, beans,
tea, boxes of dried fish, doodlebones,
pieces of see-weed, dry, pieces of eight,
all the balloon of the shroud on the floor
And the lights from the little tinkly Washington St.
Behung, dim, opium pipes and gong wars,
Tong, the rice and the card game--and
Tibbet the tibbet the tink tink tink
them Chinese cooks do in the kitchen
The thrashing doves in the dark, white fear,
my eyes reflect that liquidly
and I no understand Buddha-fear?
awakener's fear? So I give warnings
'bout midnight round about midnight
And tell all the children the little otay
story of magic, multiple madness, maya
otay, magic trees-sitters and little girl
bitters, and littlest lil brothers
in crib made made of clay (blue as the moon).
For the doves.