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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=482863" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Loft of Time Looms</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My pain cries<br>inside of me - I smother it<br>with alcohol; laughter; drugs; <br>orgasms; - the Yin-yang life, <br>me in the middle<br>Good and Evil<br>playing Ping-pong together...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">-in a basement- Filthy Losers<br>'hahahahaha'-ing <br>squeezing cold beer onto their teeth<br>Hollow chugging<br>into their throats - Esophagus Cathedrals<br>-Laughing, sad men who don't know what<br>to say exactly - Men who avoid feelings<br>and Big Books at all cost<br>To them, touching a big book<br>is worse than touching<br>another man's cock</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Men and Women, fat and sexy alike<br>fucking their minds stupid<br>fucking their veins with needles<br>fucking their mouthes with cigarettes<br>screwing themselves and stimulating<br>that Frontal Lobe Brain-Clit<br>with 'Soma' TV! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soma Real Housewives...<br>(who the hell are they trying to fool? ? , ...like we don't already know ALLLLL housewives are real! !) <br>Soma Food<br>Soma Cars<br>Soma Iphone<br>Soma shitty, shallow,6th-grade level reading popularized, like Harry Potter! ! ! <br>Soma - thank you SOOOOOO MUCH! <br>They hide from the Light - Its too bright.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And me as well...I can't even read Kerouac<br>sometimes - it makes me cry<br>His pure, soul-obliterating and resurrecting<br>visions are too intense<br>for an intense soul sometimes...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soooo...<br>50 or 60 years after<br>the 6 Gallery readings<br>and somehow the world<br>has forgotten Ginsberg<br>-forgotten freedom<br>and forgotten the choices we have<br>-while in the cage, like the <br>clipped-winged bird, <br>roosting and koo-kooing for some food, my peers<br>peek out and patiently wait<br>for their corporate gods, their master<br>Moms and master Dads, to stick a soothing<br>Super-Bowl Sunday-nipple<br>into their pathetic, snaggy baby mouthes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The loft of time looms<br>over the misty moon<br>and over rugged baseball games<br>-Over musty, cool city rain<br>made magical by neon lights-<br>Neon lights caressing puddles<br>and sidewalks of Eternity, and over<br>the people, with their rubber-soled<br>footsteps making the damp asphalt<br>sound indescribably, incredibly pure.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ray+Quesada">Ray Quesada</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=482863" data-title="The Loft of Time Looms de Ray Quesada" data-description="My pain cries
inside of me - I smother it
with alcohol; laughter; drugs; 
orgasms; - the Yin-yang life, 
me in the middle
Good and Evil
playing Ping-pong together...

-in a basement- Filthy Losers
'hahahahaha'-ing 
squeezing cold beer onto their t..."></div>
</div>
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