Leveling your thumb up,

you hitchhiked all the way

through the American veins,

through the highways of jazz,

through the heart of the post-war dream,

way down to Mexico way.

Coiling in the Earth

like the Big Snake of the world

who resembles the worm,

the crazy bodhisattva,

the big old beatific hipster,

with the beat of your heartbeat

echoing the quiet streets

of the American night.

Following desperately

the Messianic Bum,

behind Japhy and Dean,

and all being Neil Cassady

with his holy nothing

and his blessed emptiness…

Reading the American landscape

in the same way we read your poetry,

searching for the Diamond,

for the Father,

for the void,

and sitting like a Buddha

in the hope of the Enlightenment.