On The Road Page #7

But to know that, that makes me free.

You come in contact with social controls.

With custom, with moral code, and with law.

The town or city in which you live has laws which control you.

There are state laws, and the federal government in your name...

Mexico, huh?

Damn Sal, that's big

You know, I've been thinking.

I've never been south.

Damn, Sal, I wish you weren't going.

It'll be my first timein ol' New York without my good boy.

Sh*t, Sal.

We haven't talked straight in a long time.

Yeah, I know.

Yeah.

You see, man.

The older you get, those troubles just keep piling on.

Look at this.

That's Joanie.

Look at that smile, too.

Ain't she gonna break some hearts

Yeah.

She's beautiful.

Did I tell you Marylou's pregnant?

Well if it speaks French-Canadian, it's a complete coincidence

(laughs) Sh*t

I'll leave you to it.

Thanks for the visit.

I'll write you.

I know you will.

Take care buddy.

Go get 'em !

Hey, Sal !

Now you know I habla la espanol, don't you?

La Estrella, Mexico

Gracias

Sir, sir !

Do you like it?

No, gracias.

Hey kid !

You got any marijuana?

Marijuana?

Si.

Si si si.

Those are my brothers, my sister and my grandmother too.

Well, sh*t.

Your 'ma could learn a few lessons from this kid's grandma.

A man of word !

Victor.

This is the biggest bomber of tea I have ever smoked

What's his name?

Thomas.

Thomas.

Thomas.

(In car)Thomas?...

"El Paraiso" !

Hola (or CLUB OWNER?

) Hola, welcome to paradise !

CLUB OWNER Do you like girls?

Mucho, mucho loveMexico City is the holy place for more !

You're the best.

Gracias.

Thank you.

Look at this traffic, Sal !

Everybody just goes !

Dig those faces.

I want to be one of them !

Now we gotta eat this.

.How much?

We've got so much, we're rich !

They look just like us.

See, they're brothers !

My brother, I can smell the marijuana !

Yes !

Voyager, c'est bien utile, ga fait travailler l'imagination.

Tout le reste n'est que deceptions et fatigues.

Prends soin de ta mere.

To the good, old, dead, demented men we love.

Voila sa force.

Il va de la vie a la mort.

To the West.

To the West.

"You got no calluses, Sal."

C'est un moment...

Notre voyage a nous est entierement imaginaire.

"(indistinct dialogue, baby crying) C'est oublie!

I've never been able to kill myself.

I am at your immediate disposal.

Immediate disposal.

Because you've crushed all the poetry you had in you.

Take a close look at yourself and the degree of rottenness you've come to.

You can't deny the blood guilt.

You 're white.

White!

White

Poor Sal got sick.

Poor Sal got sick.

Dysentery, man.

Now listen if you can hear in your sickness, my boy.

I got my divorce with Camille down here, and I gotta get back if the car can hold up.

Not that again.

All that again, good buddy.

I've got to get back to my life.

Wish I didn't have to go.

Yes, yes, yes.

I gotta go now, ol' fever Sal.

Goodbye.

Ozone Park, 1951

Humm.

Pour toi.

Merci.

(Book title) Denver Doldrums- For S.P. and D.M.

the secret heroes of these poems - Poems by Carlo Marx

I would rather go mad, gone down the track to Mexico, heroin dripping in my veins,

eyes and ears full of marijuana, eating the god Peyote on the floor of a mudhut on the border...

rather jar my body down the road, crying by a diner in the Western sun;

rather crawl on my naked belly over tincans in Cincinnati; rather drag a rotten railroad tieto a Golgotha in the Rockies;

rather crowned with thorns in Galveston; nailed hand and foot in Los Angeles;

raised up to die in Denver; pierced in the side in Chicago;

perished and tombed in New Orleans; and resurrected somewhere on Garret Mountain.

December, 1951

(at a distance, to a woman) Hey.

Sal?

Is that you, man?

(to his friends, very low) Hang on a minute.

What are you doing in New York, man?

Dear Sal...

I came on the railroad pass.

Old hard bench coaches.

Crossing railroads.

Long, long awful trip, five days and nights, just to see you, Sal.

Are you alright?

How's Camille?

How are the babies?

(then reading)"Dear Dean, Its the end of the first half of the century.

Welcome with love and kisses to spend the other half with us.

We all wait for you.

Camille, Amy and little Joanie."

That's great

Yeah.

We still haven't talked of Mexico, and us leaving, and the fever of last year.

But we don't...

Hey Sal, we gotta go, man !

We don't have to talk about that right now.

No.

Hey.

Hey Sal, for Christ's sake.

Duke Ellington ain't gonna wait

Yeah, just give me a minute, Remi !

They're all waiting.

Do you think.

you can give me a ride to East 14th?

I want to spend as much time with my boy as possible, you know.

Man, I wish we didn't have tickets to this concert.

Yeah.

Bye, Dean.

Hey, Sal !

I love you as ever.

I first met Dean not long after my father died...

(singing) Oh I got a pretty little girl...

Dean, I'll be goddamned!

You're early...

Yeah, well...

around my finger...

I was in reform school all the time.

I was like a young punk asserting myself......

and she stands on her head and she does the splits......

"I need your cock!

"The only people that interest me are the mad ones...

Mad to live, mad to talk...

... the West coast and come crashing down to earth...

And the sound of the wild...

Bless me, Father, for I will sin

Man, I just love women!

I just want a house...

Ah, sh*t, Dean!

a baby.

Sal.

I've come to ask you to teach me how to write.

(singing)And it's hard, ain't it hard, to love what you kill

That Hudson goes!

Hey, Sal !

I love you as ever.

So in America, when the sun goes down and I sit on the old, broken-down river pier, watching the long long skies over New Jersey,

and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the West coast,

and all of that road going, and all the people dreaming in the immensity of it,

and in Iowa I know by now that the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie,

which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the Earth,

darkens all rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in,

and nobody, nobody knows what is going to happen to anybody,

besides the forlorn rags of growing old,

I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of old Dean Moriarty, the father we never found,

I think of Dean Moriarty, I think of Dean Moriarty.

Can you hear me now?

But anyway...

Tonight also, I wrote a song, called "On the Road".

I'm just rather reading what I wrote all night.

There are better things coming than what I wrote all night.

Straight from the mind to the voice, with no hand intervening.

(singing) I left New York, 1949To go across the country without a dad-blame dime.

Montana in the cold, cold fall Found my father in the gambling hallFather, Father where have you been?

You've been in the world since I was a teen.

Dear son, he said, don't worry about me I'm about to die of pleurisy

Cross the Mississippi, cross the Tennessee Cross the Niagara,

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