54th Chorus
Communities of houses
Caparisoned by sunlight
On the last & fading hill
Of America a-rollin
To the Western Chill 
And delicacies of statues
Hewn by working men
Neoned, tacked on,
Pressed against the sign
To see the swellest coupon 
Light on the fronts
.....of old buildings
Like in New York
In December dusks
When hats point to sea
--from "San Francisco Blues"; Jack Kerouac (1954)

Beat doesn’t mean tired or bushed, so much as it means beato, the Italian for beatific; to be in a state of beatitude, like St. Francis, trying to love all life, trying to be utterly sincere with everyone, practicing endurance, kindness, cultivating joy of the heart. How can this be done in our mad modern world of multiplicities and millions? By practicing a little solitude, going off by yourself once in a while to store up that most precious of goals: the vibrations of sincerity.   ~Jack Kerouac

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