Kerouac Lives - 475 Poem by Richard Wlodarski
Kerouac Lives - 475
Life's just not the same
Since you went away
You were such a saint
Me...devilish grunt
So much to think about with this verse, Kerouac was indeed a grunt, but one who insisted on climbing mountains and grabbing what's beyond reach.
Such a great assessment of his true worth, M.J.! The two brothers were such a great contrast. Gerard's saintliness had created the devilish saint in Jack which propelled him to greatness.
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 11:00:18 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
This also reminds me of what Kerouac once said, that 'no one remembers mowing the lawn when the end comes.' (something like that) . He ever resisted remaining the grunt. Such a magnificent verse, Richard.
in the end, you won't remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing your lawn... Interesting how the word 'grunt' has changed from disrespectful to respectful over the course of time.