The experiences in San Francisco at the City lights 50th anniversary.
City Lights 50th Anniversary:
In a land where one finds the most maligned of indignities, and thus struggles and falls. A few more feathers fall from my brow by the abhorrent San Francisco debaucheries, and yet, I've held the esteem and loathing alike of numerous nationals. Here for your pleasure is a story of the psychical enclosure which I build to that clarion firmament, my ivory tower to the heavens, if you will.
The masses milled about, enjoying the martinis for which the Vesuvio was so well reputed, the poetry of City Lights, from Ferlinghetti, Diane De Prima, David Amram, and a bevy of other vestiges from the esteemed past. They listened to Kevin Starr as he pontificated upon the widespread social impact of Howl and it's landmark ruling. The case was never quite well established, being spearheaded by arguments that the D.A. could write better works rather than the actual content of Ginsberg's infamous Villanelles. It occured to me that this might be something of a farce, as the Scopes Monkey Trials or the modern contrivances of pop stars to get the impossibility of bad publicity. Nonetheless, the point rang through. No work with some socially redeeming value could be considered obscene. That was the ruling and writ, and that is which we must pay the most reverent heed to.
Eventually, having made a sizeable amount from the sales of poetry to numerous fans, I deliberated and proceeded upon a course of action. The Vesuvio had my table open, be it for an instant, and I swooped down with a carrion call of "My Usual, Mike!"
My usual was a pitcher of beer and a martini, and I proceeded to quaff it wholeheartedly while comosing the newest poetry which I would inflict upon the adoring masses. Eventually, becoming quite taken with the intoxication of my words, I decided it prudent to take a breath of air outside the hallowed confines, and was immediately confronted with the sight of a man with microphone, another with camera, and a third with a cigarette. Decisions had to be made.
Without so much as a spot of hesitation, I leaped upon the opportunity for another little death, nevermind the phallic inferences of Freud. Death is intimate as sex to me, at least my personal demise, so I proceeded to ejaculate the phrase "Hey, do you enjoy poetry?" to the lady with the cigarette. He affirmed it, and I proceeded to buffet him with my work "pier 39" in exchange for a smoke. Naturally, this piqued the immediate interest of the reporter, and he solicited me to read for the occasion of City Lights 50th Anniversary.
Who would I, poet of national foundation, be to deny any request for poetry? I had to oblige him, and thereby, after moving some way down Jack Kerouac alley, read Jewel III, Pier 39, and finally, When Rabbit Howls which both took sheer delight in. So much was the enjoyments, in fact, that they asked for a second take.
Now, for the benefit of those who haven't had the opportunity to hear it, the end truly does howl, and as it turned out by the second reading, a woman who lives directly across from the poetry room cried out "If you scream again I'll call the cops!" to which we were compelled to scream assurances up that there would be no further disturbances.
We then bid each other well, where I returned to my libations, and they their hounding. As it stood, I believe the experience satisfying on not only an interpersonal level, but national, for I was thereafter featured on NBC's coverage of the anniversary, nationally syndicated and vindicated. It was quite delightful altogether.
Part mystery, part fantasy with a twist of science fiction, Clues of Chaos is brimming with suspense and adventure that will have you racing to the end yourself.
Winner 2016 Pacific Rim Book Festival in Science Fiction category. Honored as
Jack London’s cousin writes a heartwarming, young adult story about the glory of life. It is also a heart-pounding adventure to a new and strange world.
