From sea to shining sea
east to west north to south Atlantic Pacific
Arctic Antarctic the
Indian Ocean and the eighth mar incognito over
under inside and out
beyond everything I had you I had words
lines and paragraphs
rushing down mountainsides high above the timber line
from Desolation Peak
to 242 choruses of blues for the buddha and fellaheen
of Mexico City and every
other place I had your footprints on the beach
in Tangiers your palm
print on the wheel of impermanence your dreams
of long childhood walks
under the old trees of New England your athlete's body
your flannel shirts
your handsome face on a fire escape on E. 7th Street
just before the invocation
of Duluoz inhaling one last Lucky Strike
for the pent-up aching
restless road farewell subterraneans and water towers
of Manhattan it was
time for all that coming back to America
the Lincoln Tunnel oil
tanks and anemic skies in New Jersey Route 80
over the Delaware the
road unraveling the road sufficient unto itself
a twentieth century
pilgrim's way a home for the tathagata passing through
the railroad earth the
gas station night the bebop radio wail
of Charlie Parker's
saxophone clear across Kansas to San Francisco
the little alley off
Market Street Tokay in a paper bag at the mouth
of Bixby Canyon Big
Sur's ocean roar of vowel sounds from the far side
of eternity the waves
laying better than a thousand transcendental diamonds
of compassion at your
feet even to the end I had you to the maenads
of fame tearing you
to pieces in the glow of the television set in Florida
to what's buried in
Lowell's Edson Cemetery Ti Jean nothing's buried there
the dust of your sacred
bleeding catholic heart with the dust of the holy ghost
and certain mad and
driven saints has been placed among the stars