Without another look, the two plain-looking gentlemen hipsters head down Broadway, chumping off you-know-who, boosting his wallet after leaving the stewardess sitting on the curb, white meat for the Times Square jackals after the lions have feasted.

Now Pan Am’s gone, Burroughs and Huncke are history. Times Square is a Disney Theme Park. I do not even want to be alive. There is no amphetamine elite. Yea, there is only amphetamine. Like some primal viri. Spanning the history of life on this carbuncle of a planet. Dust to dust and slime to slime. The Lord delivered me. But I don’t buy salvation.

Ask yourself, what is life in the end? A bum’s rush face-first into a spinning airplane propeller.

A man can go slow or he can crack a benny and go so fast that time feels infinite. And everybody knows infinity can’t end. So he forgets about the blade. Like he’s never going to get there. But let me tell you, Brother, speed will take you there. And it will take you there faster.