Howl

who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,



I was reading Howl - once I started reading it aloud I could not stop it was like everything had to be finished and experienced and done at one go - the lines above were perhaps some of the best lines that describes New York, some thing I could never had understood if I was not living here.