God, By JACK KEROUAC
In his jests serious, in his murders victim,
or which, is God? Who began
before non-existence’s dependence
on existence, Who came before
the chicken and the egg
Who started out
enormous Light
the dark brilliance of the Mystery
for all good hearts to shroud inside
and keep their understanding sympathy
intact as Beethoven’s courageous
slow sigh.
In his atrocities victim?
In his jests damned?
In his damnation damnation?
Or is God just the golden hover
light manifesting Mayakay
the illusion of the moon, branches
across the face of the moon?
O perturbing swttlontaggek
montiana godio
Thou high suffermaker!
Tell me now, in Your Poem!
From “Pomes All Sizes†(City Lights Books: $8.95; 204 pp.). The original manuscript of this almost completely unknown and unpublished book of poetry, written between 1954 and 1965, has been in the safekeeping of City Lights since Kerouac’s death in 1969. 1992 by John Sampas, Literary Representative.
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