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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
This book is dedicated to Jan Kerouac, the late daughter of Jack Kerouac who I knew well in the 60’s in Yelapa, Mexico, with the hippies, 30 miles from any road. She lived in a thatched hut next to mine there. I remember seeing later, in the English, Mexico City News, “Jack Kerouac’s Daughter, Jan Kerouac, has disappeared, whereabouts unknown.” The first poem in the book is a poem I wrote to the spirit of Jan. Here is a small quote from that poem: “We know the significance of us being a piece of the big puzzle but we don’t see all the pieces together melded as one demur picture…we seem so separate, but so cock-sure. "Things slip by,” don’t they Jan? My memory is flashing…this wheel is on fire!“ The first chapter of her Memoirs, "Baby Driver,” is like a recording tape of everything she had echoed to me in casual conversation. I think she thought things out in plots from the very beginning. You can find out more about me by going to: http: //sanfranciscopoetry.blip.tv http: //mysticbabylon.podomatic.com http: //littlebirdtoldme.podomatic.com http: //poetryhotel.podomatic.com (A collaboration of videos with poetess friend Clara Hsu) http: //writerunion.podomatic.com (Unofficial San Francisco Writers Union videos produced by me.)
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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
This book is dedicated to Jan Kerouac, the late daughter of Jack Kerouac who I knew well in the 60’s in Yelapa, Mexico, with the hippies, 30 miles from any road. She lived in a thatched hut next to mine there. I remember seeing later, in the English, Mexico City News, “Jack Kerouac’s Daughter, Jan Kerouac, has disappeared, whereabouts unknown.” The first poem in the book is a poem I wrote to the spirit of Jan. Here is a small quote from that poem: “We know the significance of us being a piece of the big puzzle but we don’t see all the pieces together melded as one demur picture…we seem so separate, but so cock-sure. "Things slip by,” don’t they Jan? My memory is flashing…this wheel is on fire!“ The first chapter of her Memoirs, "Baby Driver,” is like a recording tape of everything she had echoed to me in casual conversation. I think she thought things out in plots from the very beginning. You can find out more about me by going to: http: //sanfranciscopoetry.blip.tv http: //mysticbabylon.podomatic.com http: //littlebirdtoldme.podomatic.com http: //poetryhotel.podomatic.com (A collaboration of videos with poetess friend Clara Hsu) http: //writerunion.podomatic.com (Unofficial San Francisco Writers Union videos produced by me.)