Thursday, December 26, 2013
you will my dear fellow to the night Louanne was crying in the room, and
when, turning to you and indicating by my extra added sincerity of tone
which we both knew was contrived but had its intention, that is, by my
play acting I showed that…but wait, that isn’t it…” “Of course that isn’t
it! Because you forget that…but I’ll stop accusing you. Yes is what I
said…” And on, on into the night they talked like this. At dawn I looked
up. They were tying up the last of the morning’s matters. “When I said
to you that I had to sleep because of Louanne, that is seeing her this
morning at ten I didn’t bring my peremptory tone to bear in regards to
what you’d just said about the unnecessariness of sleep but only, ONLY
mind you because of the fact that I absolutely, simply, purely and and
without any whatevers have to sleep now, I mean, man, my eyes are
closing, they’re redhot, sore, tired, beat…” “Ah child,” said Allen.
“We’ll just have to sleep now. Let’s stop the machine.” “You can’t stop
the machine!” yelled Allen at the top of his voice.” The first birds
sang. “Now, when I raise my hand” said Neal, “we’ll stop talking, we’ll
both understand purely and without any hassle that we are simply
stopping talking, and we’ll just sleep.” “You can’t stop the machine
like that.” “Stop the machine” I said. They looked at me. “He’s been
awake all this time listening. What were you thinking Jack?” I told them
that I was thinking they were very amazing maniacs and that I had spent
the whole night listening to them like a man watching the mechanism of a
watch that reached clear to the top of Berthoud pass and yet was made
with the smallest works of the most delicate watch in the world. They
smiled. I pointed my finger at them and said “If you keep this up you’ll
both go crazy but let me know what happens as you go along.” We also
talked about the possibility of their coming to Frisco with me. I walked
out and took a trolley to my apartment and Allen Ginsberg’s
papier-mâché mountains grew red as the great sun rose from the eastward
plains. In the afternoon I was involved in that trek to the mountains
and didn’t get to see Neal or Allen for five days. Beverly Burford had
use of her employer’s car for the weekend. We brought suits and hung
them on the windows and took off for Central City, Bob Burford
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