Free Book of Sketches by Jack Kerouac Page A

Fellaheen Form, is
Discernible; the slope
shouldered cowboy switch
man in dungarees, low
rolled sleeves & brim
hat is the same
type as the samebuilt
Indian driving a Mexico
City bus or lost in endless
meditation on the desert.
     
    The types come & go &
never change, but history
changes; it is history
laid the pallor over the
face of same-built
Radio City executive — the
history of his Race. But
he who surmounts his race,
& sits beneath history, is
Fellaheen. Funny ideas.
The realization of the
death of a comrade is
Jesus; the Millenium
of Christ; the surprised
news of the death
of a comrade is Hip . . .
Hip is Half.
Meek is Full — or Whole
     
    The Millenium of the Meek (Fellaheen)
     
    Hip, & Culture, is Arrogance
     
    Hip is the final Dionysian culture
or cult-form in the decaying
West Arm of Europe —
it wears a subtle mask, it
covers nothing.
Fellaheen is Meek & Rages
like a Beast — the faces
of matricides in Athens
or Cairo afternoon editions;
over the hot rooftops a
woman wails.
The (Purely) Meek Shall
Inherit the Earth — the
Children of God
Children of Jesus
of the Son of Man
     
    A mankind of saints shall
occupy the final Earth,
in endless contemplation of
Heaven —
Hip Fellaheen will lead
to Meek Fellaheen, souls
sitting round a fire in
the open night
All this (My Kingdom
is Not of This World) is
why 1947 was the
“happiest” year of
my life.
Now no more tea,
but contemplation of
Good & Evil —
Lust & Sorrow
     
    Burroughs the Boss of
the Jungle —
Carr the Boss of World
News —
Ginsberg the trembling
Saint of the City —
Cassady the worker
of the wheel on the
land & cunt-man
Kerouac the Pilgrim
of the Meek Fellaheen
Huncke: - criminal hipster
Joan Adams: - the Heroine
of the Hip Generation
John Holmes: - the
Western “writer” &
“critic” — late Civilization
anxieties & word-torrents —
Solomon: - Megalopolitan
High Jew Enigma
     
    The Gospel of the Meek
Fellaheen, Bringing History
Round to Jesus, Begins in
Sweet Actopan — &
ends there
     
    I love the railroad
because it is laid out on the
land, & requires the
eyes of Indians — but
the Rail is Evil
“Brother have you seen
starlight on the rails?”
“Yes” — but,
the greatness of Wolfe
must have been in his
realization of the land —
     
    Come face to face with
the lonely grave now,
beyond it is Heaven
— the lonely hole you’ll
lie in is the only hole
you’ll have — round it
God has woven golden
rewards the Fabric
of His Glory —
My father only now
is blinking his eyes on
the other side of Light —
Jesus loved the
Individual —
America is Decoration
now — planted palms in
San Jose —
     
    The City fattens on
the blood of Towns,
then bursts. The
Atom Bomb, or its
satellite Power, will
destroy New York City
& all of Western Civilization
from Marxist-
Faustian Vladivostok
westward round the
globe to San Francisco.
Then the Millenium
of the Hip Fellaheen
begins, in all lands.
But Eden Heaven
awaits the Milleniums
of the Meek Fellaheen
for all time
The Mankind of Saints,
that shall come after
& finally.
The Men from Mars
are really the baldheaded
bespectacled
lobsters of American
business. — really &
seriously — their
beady eyes, in fat,
glint on the grave —
Rocky C.
A boxer with the
sadness of a saint
Faustian society had
good intentions
     
    The latest sounds in
hip bop are exactly
like the latest developments
in N.Y. Advertising
— the latest ad shows
an empty Coca Cola
bottle, a model with
a black patch over his
eye; these trivial things
are really milestones in
the History of Advertising
in Western Civilization, &
are momentous in the
concerned (Balzacian) circles;
in Eternity of the Meek
Fellaheen they have no
more meaning than that
a walnut fell on the
head of the Patriarch this
morning — or the
     
    Messiah’s pants fell off
the chair —
SKETCH
    Crazy California of my
Selma days — tracks
of old SP shining in hot
birdy-tweeting breezy afternoon,
De Jesus & Rodriguez
market of white stucco
with cars parked