San Rafael/Mexico City Blues Poem

I read this poem at the Beat Museum last Sunday. –CM

A superficial reading of one of these poems [in the book of lyrics by Kerouac] led me to believe he was referring to Burroughs — the section where Kerouac is taking down the words of old junkie Bill Garver — I think he calls him Bill Gaines — “Boy if you only knew how good dem bacons and dem eggs is, you’d give up poetry boy and dig in,”etc. — the theme carries through about five choruses [of the book].

O magic countless in time this morning,
O risen sun late on the horizon,
San Rafael, your office workers
with shiny hair and backpacks
a tow in endless motion and still asleep
on sleek commuter buses
do not notice the copy of Mexico City Blues
beside my bag on the seat cushion
next to me.
This workaday I will play tag
with Kerouac,
and I am still in that reverie
as the bus pulls into
a transfer stop.
Now workers with grit-worn shirts
standing in line at a deli
quick stop
smile as they fill
cups of coffee and pay.
In the Canal the street are dim
candlelight from the ones
holding prayer vigils
against the ICE raids
shines in sweet candescence.
Earth kisses the sun
through them.

Carl Macki


ii sing of love’s purity

while my anger rises from my chest

as my my sweat rolls down my


unbroken chain of being, how can I hold you?

I don’t need to,

the summer signs into my heart and

the warmth melts my ire as


The Carotid Kid


Ernest’s psychopathy was recognized at an early age. The local constabulary knew of his exploits as a child; torturing animals, stealing, getting into fights. After a certain number of offenses, his data was automatically sent to Langley, where his case was reviewed to see if he was recruitment material. He was. At sixteen, after an arrest for assault, two men appeared at his parents’ front door. They explained they could help Earnest and integrate him into society, and they needed his certain skills. The parents were only too relieved to get him off their hands. Earnest was trained with a few others in the arts of assassination. He took to his work like a duck to water. He couldn’t believe his luck: he was going to be a government approved killer! Never mind who he was going to kill…that was other peoples’ concern. He was given a position at one of the major news outlets, a good place to gather information and be another invisible suit. Earnest got his “nick” name because of his ability to just snick the carotid artery of his victims so that they bled internally as if they’d had an embolism. His skill was much admired. Now only eighteen, he’d already made his bones by offing three whistleblowers. He enjoyed placing the nasty phone calls to his victims, warning and intimidating them. He thought the USA was the greatest country in the world.

–John Tischer, author of the Blog, “Eggtooth Breaks Open” —


Dawn Of The Kali Yuga

Downward spiral of ego out of control.

Common sense taken out of the game.

If you haven’t been paying attention,

you’re in big trouble.

Mamos “destroy by creating the age

of weaponry.”

What is important to people these days?

Art? Love? Truth?

Guns are right up there.

Fighting is entertainment.

Terror is organized.

World economy based on war.

Can you tell me this is not the trend?

Can you point to any well know

idealist/realist that has not been

murdered or marginalized?

Can you point to anyone in charge

that is not a criminal or insane?

Disneyland is what they want

you to believe,

while they pick your pockets.

destroy your children,

ignore the mess.

It will get to the point where

cannibalism is fashionable.

You’ve been warned.

–John Tischer

John Tischer lives in Tepoztlán, Mexico, He is a contributor to Contemporary Literary Horizon.



Anubis Walked With A Limp: Jan Kerouac

 Anubis walked with a limp–Jan Kerouac 

Jan Kerouac

Jan Kerouac

We wanted her to be like a figure in a painting by Botticelli [or a China doll]
instead, we got Jackson Pollock [in all his glory].
Gerry gave me her address before I landed in L.A.
I looked for her apartment in Hollywood.
rang the bell and as we talked
spread my writings across her living room floor
The Dodgers won their game in Chavez Ravine that day
it was still sunny
when we went to a Moroccan restaurant on Sunset
overlooking the hotel where John Belushi died
It felt dizzy and not at all glamorous
[She was] like St. Lucy forced into prostitution
And I some unnamed Sicilian jackal
Peddling saline drachmas in a salt-encrusted temple
Of timeless interference
when she died, my vision was restored.

C.M. 3/14/17


Janet Michelle “Jan” Kerouac
(February 16, 1952 – June 5, 1996) was an American writer and the only child of beat generation author Jack Kerouac and Joan Haverty Kerouac.

Early life and career

Kerouac was born in Albany, New York. Her mother left her father while pregnant, and Jack refused to acknowledge the baby as his daughter. A blood test when Jan was nine years old proved his paternity and he was ordered to pay $52 a week for her upbringing. Jan met her father only twice, at the blood test in 1961 and again in 1967, when she visited him at his mother’s home in Florida, before traveling to Mexico with her first husband, John Lamb Lash. For the next few decades, she traveled across the country with a fearless curiosity that echoed that of her father and Neal Cassady.[citation needed]

She began to write seriously in the mid 1970s, often seeking guidance through correspondence with her Godfather, Allen Ginsberg.[citation needed]

Jack Kerouac died in 1969 and Jan began a long legal process through the 1970s and 1980s that would eventually give her rights to one-half of the literary revenue from his books sold domestically. Her friendship with Carolyn Cassady bolstered her drive to achieve this; Carolyn once remembering her fondly as a “poor little lost waif.”[this quote needs a citation] Encouraged by Kerouac biographer Gerald Nicosia, she entered into a lawsuit in the 1990s that proposed the will of Jack’s mother, Gabrielle Kerouac was a forgery, in the hope winning could expand her legal rights to her father’s works and physical property. Eventually a court ruled that the will was indeed a forgery, although in practical terms this ruling changed nothing concerning control of the Kerouac estate[1]

Kerouac published two semi-autobiographical novels, Baby Driver in 1981,[2][3] and Trainsong in 1988. She was working on a third novel, Parrot Fever, at the time of her death.[citation needed]

Personal life

Jan spent her younger years living with her mother, twin sisters and brother on New York City’s Lower East Side. Shortly before the Beatles arrived in the US, she co-formed a girl group, The Whippets, with her friend Bibbe Hansen. Kerouac married and divorced twice. She delivered a stillborn child, Natasha, in 1968.[citation needed] Through the 1970s, she traveled extensively, always eventually returning to the homes of her mother and brother in Washington State. She was a baker and painted abstract watercolors.[citation needed]


On June 5, 1996, Kerouac died in Albuquerque, New Mexico a day after her spleen was removed. She had suffered kidney failure five years earlier and was on dialysis.[4] She was survived by twin half-sisters, Katharine and Sharon, and one half-brother, David Stuart.[citation needed]


  • Baby Driver (1981, novel)
  • Trainsong (1988, novel)
  • Parrot Fever (1992–93, unpublished novel)

Corporations Are People, Too — Poetry by Jerome Sala

Photo of Author. Credit: Turtle Point Press

Jerome Sala’s Corporations Are People, Too

NYQ Books: Join our general mailing list to be informed
when it becomes available. . .book cover

(Anticipated Publication Date: May 5, 2017)
Cover Art: Ferdinand and Imelda City, 1986, oil on canvas, 72 x 48 in.
© The School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Brown family, by Roger Brown, American (1941-­ 1997)

“As is well known, the Fourteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution enables a corporation to be considered a person—with many of the rights granted to (human) individuals. But has anyone considered how this person might talk, or, for that matter, write poems? Corporations Are People, Too! is the first to explore such an idea. It begins with thirty “Corporate Sonnets,” many constructed out of the corporate speak we hear and use ourselves every day. Then it goes on to examine how this language becomes part of who we are—from the products we consume, and their meanings, to the ways we think and speculate. The result is something new—both elevated and crass at the same time. The great American pragmatist philosopher John Dewey urged thinkers of his own time to “acknowledge the significance of economic factors in life, rather than evading the issue.” In a witty, satirical and entertaining manner—that employs both traditional and innovative forms—this collection takes up that challenge for today.”


Jerome Sala burns all of the rule books. His poems need to be read out loud as we ditch our cubicles and throw out our tablets. This timely book seems to have been written from the inside out—dissecting advertorials with ready-mades and raging at capitalistic indifference. As the poet himself ponders in one of his sonnets, “Perhaps its stasis urges us to disbelieve.” He is a writer that I want on my side. Thank you, Jerome Sala, for this electric meditation on our frozen world.

—Kostas Anagnopoulos

“Jerome Sala’s Corporations Are People, Too! not only brilliantly skewers Corporate America’s hypocrisy, obfuscation, in- and anti-humanity etc., but does so utilizing poetic forms and strategies so expertly it could be considered two different equally successful books, one an illustration of perfect poetic craft, the other a unique screed exposing in a totally original way the many failings of a commodity-based culture.”

—Michael Lally

About the Author

“Jerome Sala’s books of poetry include cult classics such as Spaz Attack, I Am Not a Juvenile Delinquent, The Trip, Raw Deal, Look Slimmer Instantly, Prom Night (a collaboration with artist Tamara Gonzales), and most recently, The Cheapskates. His poetry and criticism have appeared The Best American Poetry series, The Nation, Evergreen Review, Pleiades, Conjunctions, Rolling Stone, The Brooklyn Rail, Journal of Poetics Research and many others. Before moving to New York in the 80s, Sala and his spouse, poet Elaine Equi, did numerous readings together, helping to create Chicago’s lively performance poetry scene. He has worked for many corporations of all kinds as a professional copywriter and has a Ph.D. in American Studies from New York University.”

“Espresso Bongo,” blog by Jerome Sala.

Jerome Sala Photo Credit: TCredit: Turtle Point Pressurtle Point Press

Photo Credit: Turtle Point Press

author={Sala, J.},
publisher={NYQ BOOKS}


Cartooning: The art of–Masterful Marks

masterful-marks-cartooningCartooning: “Masterful Marks,” by Monte Beauchamp.

In a first-of-its-kind collection, award-winning illustrators celebrate the lives of the visionary artists who created the world of Cartooning and altered pop culture forever.

Sixteen Graphic Novel Biographies of:

• Walt Disney • Dr. Seuss • Charles Schulz • The Creators of Superman • R. Crumb • Jack Kirby • Winsor McCay • Hergé • Osamu Tezuka • MAD creator, Harvey Kurtzman • Al Hirschfeld • Edward Gorey • Chas Addams • Rodolphe Töpffer • Lynd Ward • Hugh Hefner

The story of cartoons—the multibillion-dollar industry that has affected all corners of our culture, from high to low—is ultimately the story of the visionary icons who pioneered the form.

But no one has told the story of comic art in its own medium—until now.

In Masterful Marks, top illustrators—including Drew Friedman, Nora Krug, Denis Kitchen, and Peter Kuper—reveal how sixteen visionary cartoonists overcame massive financial, political, and personal challenges to create a new form of art that now defines our world.

See more at:

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