Recollect Joe Strummer
talkin' 'bout "Street Fightin'..."
Man.
Recollect

Joe

performing
Kerouac's "MacDougal Street."

See, you're crazy
if you don't make an album.
(Crazy,) dig?

Recollect Ginsberg in '81...

"Broken bottles,"
said Dick.

See, this was the thing:
Amidst the naïveté
of Dead Spiders,

"Kick junk. What else..."
What else?

Tried to read Pynchton
but couldn't get past the first page.
Read Dostoyevski (in '82).

Left for Istanbul in '83,
smoked a bowl of hash
and woke up with a Mohawk.

Heard Burroughs died
the same day
our free press sold
my article
for eight times that.

A decade earlier, I committed suicide
after recording
a demo ("Trouble in Metropolis.")

Recollect Joe Strummer's
'57 Cadillac
somewhere in a Nevada desert,
with Brian Setzer
adjusting the overhead
valves,

tossin'
back broken bottles
over that 365, and stories
of a road
Kerouac
could never have imagined.

Yeah, "a fabulous beat,"
he said.

And Dick,
the first Dead Spider to actually die.
Should've been
me, you know. "Broken

bottles. Broken bottles..."

See, it was Joe.
It was Joe
who saw the best minds
of a generation destroyed
by madness.

Kick. Junk.
What else?

What else
can a poor worker do?

What else?