WHEN JACK KEROUAC
WAS THE BURGLAR
Who's got the rocks and the Roxmander
Reason? I want to go home with Kerouac's
wife. I held her hand once, on 12th Street
when he was still alive, They were long
distant, and apart. He was a miserable
cuss and she was just what I'd wanted.
He looked around for the party line.
Really was drunk, and thought there'd
be one. I was amazed that anyone with
the smarts of him could fall for that
drunken ploy again. Such a stupid gag.
-
Twelve men in a twelve man minute.
That's what they tried calling this ersatz
band. Jazz and toiletries was all it ever
sounded to me. I told them that, and
Mrs. Jack laughed. Then, like a fool,
I stood up and said - 'Anyway, you
assholes, the name you really want is
'This Ersatz Band,' or forget the this
if you wish. Ersatz Band alone would
do. Part Klezmer, part blues; some jazz
like the Jews like to play on 52nd Street
when they've got nothing else to do.'
-
'Except for choosing sides, ha ha, like
they said God did and picked them.' By
this time I was rollicking drunk and Mrs.
Jack was only getting loose. I turned and
said, (like Jerry Lewis), 'Hey Lady!' (in
that voice), 'Hey lady, where's your sainted
husband do you think he's wearing drawers?
Or, or, snakeskin epaulets?'
-
It was the sixties, a certain period of
time when everyone knew what epaulets
were. Or I think she did, because she
muttered something about, 'That
god-damn Canuck he's always spouting
French at me too, now shut-up you, and
come here. I did, and she hugged me
down, right to where we fell.
-
It was only later that I realized what had
happened. She'd fallen asleep, tipsy-wise,
and so had I. I didn't want nobody to see
me no more. So I stood straight up and
looked at my shirt. Allover it, either her
or me. Vomit, baby, free. 'Hey Lady!'
I wanted to yell, 'Hey Lady! Look
what you've done to me.'
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