Kerouac Lives - 472 Poem by Richard Wlodarski
Kerouac Lives - 472
Never got to tell you
How much I had loved you...
Now it's forever late
Because...we've been buried
LeeAnn, for me it's wonderful to be giving Kerouac a second chance by writing about his possibly remorseful nature.
Rob, in writing and publishing The Kerouac Venture, I'm trying to express the possible remorse that Kerouac may have felt for not having made his daughter part of his life. He hadn't even mentioned her once in any of his novels.
His daughter's life was one of great suffering: poverty, prostitution and drugs. In spite of it all, she had managed to write two novels.
A great reminder to all! Unspoken words of affection deter us from soaring. A meaningful poem.
So very true, Rose Marie! How very tragic that Kerouac had only met his daughter twice before his untimely death!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 10:47:29 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Great write..... thanks for sharing this poem....
The immensely talented Jack Kerouac deserves a great write!