I’ve waited on platforms
For trains that never arrived
Drank shots in cellar bars
On Tuesday nights
With in-betweeners
Who still believe in lady luck

I’ve walked along promenades
Been battered by the wind and the rain
Taken shelter in late night café’s
Drank coffee so strong

It made me shudder
I’ve read the beat poets so many times
But I never tire of the words
Of Ginsberg and Ker...

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“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.” 

Jack Kerouac, On the Road

“The only people f...

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