I saw the best minds
of my generation
destroyed by
madness, starving
hysterical naked,
dragging themselves
through the negro
streets at dawn
looking for an angry
fix,
angelheaded hipsters
burning for the ancient
heavenly connection
to the starry dynamo
in the machinery of
night,
who poverty and
tatters and hollow-
eyed and high sat up
smoking in the
supernatural darkness
of cold-water flats
floating across the
tops of cities
contemplating jazz
Allen Ginsberg
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