Dillinger
Guerrilla Ontologist
- Joined
- Sep 19, 2000
- Posts
- 26,152
Ginsberg, rewritten by Dillinger
I saw the best minds of literotica destroyed by madness, starving hysterical. erotically naked, dragging themselves through the cyber streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, webheaded netsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of lit...
who storied and poetry and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of literotica's flats floating across the top of the web contemplating porn,
who bared their boobs to Heaven under the logo and saw literotic angels staggering on bulletin boards illuminated,
who passed through chat sites with radiant cool eyes hallucinating incest and rape-light tragedy among the authors of lit, who were expelled from the other sites for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the size of their cocks,
who cowered in boards in sexy underwear, burning their identities in wastebaskets and listening to the trolls through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Literotica with a belt of addiction for on-line,
who ate pussy in threads or drank cum in other threads, sex, or parated their torsos night after night,
with dreams, and drugs, with waking fantasies, alcohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable threads of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of BDSM, illuminating all the motionless cyberworld of Time in between
Virtual solidities of boards, backyard online dawns, wine drunkenness over the silliness, netfront boroughs of webhead joyride neon blinking computers, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Literotica, rantings and postings light of mind,
who chained themselves to keyboards for the endless ride from wire to holy wire on high speed modems until the noise of congestion and server errors brought them down shuddering finger-wracked and carpal tunnel of wrists all drained of strength in the drear light of monitor,
who posted all night in the online light of board, floated out and sat through the empty afternooon in desolate need, listening for the keystrokes of fellow addicts,
who typed continuously seventy hours from dusk to dawn to dusk to dawn to the edge of sanity,
a lost battalion of erotic conversationalists jumping down the hallways of endless flirtations
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of revelation and identity and expectations and desires
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant words, meat for the search cast on the database,
who vanished into nowhere ether leaving a trail of ambiguous cyber postcards of times remembered,
suffering pussy sweats and cock bone-grindings and migraines of eye strain under internet-withdrawal
who wandered around and around at all times in the internet wondering where to go, and went, leaving no faint trace,
who lit cigarettes in Literotic boxcars racketing through the web toward pornographic farms in the cyber night,
who studied erotic writing and bop kaballa because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in these halls,
who loned it through the boards of Literotica seeking visionary revelations who were visionary posters,
who thought they were only mad when words resounded in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the programmers on the impulse of suggestive midnight revisionary rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through quiet times seeking jazz or sex or politics or religion, and followed the brilliant scribblings to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to ephemeral shores,
who disappeared into the vast ocean of the web leaving behind nothing but the shadow of words and the stories and ash of poetry scattered in Literotica...
-- Alan "Dillinger" Ginsberg
I saw the best minds of literotica destroyed by madness, starving hysterical. erotically naked, dragging themselves through the cyber streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, webheaded netsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of lit...
who storied and poetry and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of literotica's flats floating across the top of the web contemplating porn,
who bared their boobs to Heaven under the logo and saw literotic angels staggering on bulletin boards illuminated,
who passed through chat sites with radiant cool eyes hallucinating incest and rape-light tragedy among the authors of lit, who were expelled from the other sites for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the size of their cocks,
who cowered in boards in sexy underwear, burning their identities in wastebaskets and listening to the trolls through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Literotica with a belt of addiction for on-line,
who ate pussy in threads or drank cum in other threads, sex, or parated their torsos night after night,
with dreams, and drugs, with waking fantasies, alcohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable threads of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of BDSM, illuminating all the motionless cyberworld of Time in between
Virtual solidities of boards, backyard online dawns, wine drunkenness over the silliness, netfront boroughs of webhead joyride neon blinking computers, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Literotica, rantings and postings light of mind,
who chained themselves to keyboards for the endless ride from wire to holy wire on high speed modems until the noise of congestion and server errors brought them down shuddering finger-wracked and carpal tunnel of wrists all drained of strength in the drear light of monitor,
who posted all night in the online light of board, floated out and sat through the empty afternooon in desolate need, listening for the keystrokes of fellow addicts,
who typed continuously seventy hours from dusk to dawn to dusk to dawn to the edge of sanity,
a lost battalion of erotic conversationalists jumping down the hallways of endless flirtations
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of revelation and identity and expectations and desires
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant words, meat for the search cast on the database,
who vanished into nowhere ether leaving a trail of ambiguous cyber postcards of times remembered,
suffering pussy sweats and cock bone-grindings and migraines of eye strain under internet-withdrawal
who wandered around and around at all times in the internet wondering where to go, and went, leaving no faint trace,
who lit cigarettes in Literotic boxcars racketing through the web toward pornographic farms in the cyber night,
who studied erotic writing and bop kaballa because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in these halls,
who loned it through the boards of Literotica seeking visionary revelations who were visionary posters,
who thought they were only mad when words resounded in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the programmers on the impulse of suggestive midnight revisionary rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through quiet times seeking jazz or sex or politics or religion, and followed the brilliant scribblings to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to ephemeral shores,
who disappeared into the vast ocean of the web leaving behind nothing but the shadow of words and the stories and ash of poetry scattered in Literotica...
-- Alan "Dillinger" Ginsberg
