A Coney Island of the Mind might have been the first book of poetry I ever owned. Not sure, but I think it was. Jack Kerouac was my first literary hero and I dug up all the Beat stuff I could, which wasn’t easy in the early 90s.

I’m glad to see Ferlinghetti get his due and some attention with this piece.

I recently discovered Gypsy Lou and Loujon Press. They aren’t quite as remembered as City Lights, but they were instrumental in launching Bukowski and also published folks like Kerouac. It’s a neat story, husband and wife making art in New Orleans despite all financial obstacles.

Anyway, ha, good article here.

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I’m not in the Matrix. I AM the Matrix.

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