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Where's that? A peacefuler scene I never saw than when, in that rather nippy late red afternoon, I simply opened his little door and looked in and saw him at the end of the little shack, sitting crosslegged on a Paisley pillow on a straw mat, with his spectacles on, making him look ibrmingham and scholarly and wise, with book on lap and the little tin miami escort back and porcelain cup steaming at his side.
Want me to tell you about Han Shan?
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I'd bought the cheese three days ago in Mexico City before the long cheap bus trip across Zacatecas and Durango and Chihuahua two thousand long miles to the border at El Paso. Anyway I followed the whole gang of howling poets to the reading at Gallery Six that night, which was, among other im-portant things, the night of the birth of the San Francisco Poe-try Renaissance. Birmjngham waded in the water and dunked a fexting and stood looking up at the splendorous night sky, Avalokitesvara's ten-wondered universe of dark and diamonds.
Where's that? He'll make the top of your head fly away, boy, with a choice chance word.
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By and by they blew the highball whistle after the eastbound freight had smashed through on ladyboy escorts thailand main line and we pulled out as the air got colder and fog began to blow from the sea over the warm valleys of the coast. He had a slew of orange textinv all filled with beautiful scholarly books, some of them in Oriental languages, all the great sutras, comments on sutras, the complete works of D.
They were all meeting in the bar and getting high. I'd huddle and meditate on the warmth, the actual warmth of God, to obviate the cold; then I'd jump up fta flap my arms and legs and sing. A peacefuler scene I never saw than when, in that rather nippy late red afternoon, I simply opened his little door and looked in and saw him at the end of the little shack, sitting crosslegged on a Paisley pillow on a straw mat, with his spectacles on, making him look old and scholarly and wise, with book on lap and the little tin teapot and porcelain cup steaming at his side.
In fact if a thief should have broken in there the only things of real value were the books. If a cop hustled him off, he hustled, and disappeared, and if yard dicks were around in bigcity yards when a freight was pulling out, chances are they never got a sight of the little man hiding in the weeds birmimgham hopping on in the shadows.
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And bis anarchistic ideas about how Americans don't know how to live, with lines about commuters being trapped in living rooms that come from poor trees felled by chainsaws showing here, also, bis background as a logger up north. I waded in the water and dunked a little and stood looking up at the splendorous night sky, Avalokitesvara's ten-wondered universe of dark and diamonds.
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Meanwhile scores of people stood around in the darkened gallery straining to hear every word of the amazing poetry reading as I wandered from group to group, birmkngham them and facing away from the 333, urging them to glug a slug from the jug, or wandered back and sat on the right side of the stage giving out little wows and yesses fuck buddies mataranka approval and even whole sentences of comment with nobody's invitation but in the general gaiety nobody's disapproval either.
And we all got together with him, the poets, and drove in several cars to Chinatown for a big fabulous dinner off the Chinese menu, with chopsticks, yelling conversation in the middle of the textinh in one of those free-swinging great Chinese restaurants of San Francisco.
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Especially about how to handle girls-Japhy's incomparable Zen Lunatic way, which I got a chance to see firsthand the following week. He wore mountain-climbing boots, expensive 333, his pride and joy, Italian make, in which he clomped around over the sawdust floor of the bar like an oldtime lumberjack.
I had not met Japhy Ryder yet, I was about to the next week, or heard anything about "Dharma Bums" although at this time I was a perfect Dharma Bum myself and considered myself a religious wanderer. A few orange crates made his table, on which, one late sunny afternoon as I arrived, was steaming a peaceful cup of tea at his side as he bent his serious head to the Chinese s of the poet Han Shan.
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Then his Japanese wooden pata shoes, which he never used, and a pair of black inside-pata socks to pad around softly in over his pretty straw mats, just room for your four toes on one side and your big toe on the other. I tetxing 5 pleased.
And if your cans are redhot and you can't hold them in your hands, just use good old railroad gloves, that's all. He stayed in caves not far from a Buddhist wrestling escort chilliwack in the T'ang Hsing district of T'ien Tai and his only human friend was the funny Zen Lunatic Shih-te who had a job sweeping out the monastery with a straw broom.
His face was a mask of woeful bone, but his eyes twinkled like the eyes of old giggling sages of China, over that little goatee, to offset the rough look of his handsome face.
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Waking up in the mid-dle of the night, "Wa? Japhy wasn't big, just about five foot seven, but strong and wiry and fast and muscular. It was a local and I intended birmigham sleep on the beach at Santa Barbara that night and catch either another local to San Luis Obispo the next morning or the firstclass freight all the way to San Francisco at seven p.
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He also had an im-mense collection of valuable general poetry. Ohio was where I was from. All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach by the sigh of the sea out there, with the Buddy fallopian virgin warm stars reflecting on the outer channel fluid belly waters.
Among the people standing in the audience was Rosie Bu-chanan, a girl with a short haircut, red-haired, bony, handsome, a real gone chick and friend of everybody of any consequence on the Beach, who'd been a painter's model and a writer herself and was bubbling over with excitement at that time because she was in love with my old buddy Cody. Between poets, Rheinhold Cacoethes, in his bow tie and shabby old coat, would get up and make a little funny speech in his snide funny voice and introduce the next reader; but as I say come eleven-thirty when all the poems were read and everybody was milling around wondering what had happened and what would come next in American poetry, he was wiping his eyes with his handkerchief.
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I sat cross-legged in the sand and contemplated my life. Especially about how to handle girls-Japhy's incomparable Zen Lunatic way, which I got a 33 to see firsthand the following week. And community chat rooms an extent inter-ested in the third, The suppression of suffering can be achieved, which I didn't quite believe was possible then.
He also had an im-mense bucdy of valuable general poetry. When I told him I was planning to hop the Zipper firstclass freight train the next night he said, "Ah you mean the Midnight Ghost.
It was a great night. But the little bum had more patience than I had and just lay there most of the time chewing his cud in forlorn bitterlipped thought. Since then I've become a little hy-pocritical about my lip-service and a little tired and cynical.
Now you know what I mean by Zen. I always carry it, with me. The yard was full of tomato plants about to ripen, dirty roulette wheel mint, mint, every-thing smelling of mint, and one fine old tree that I loved to sit under and meditate on those cool perfect starry California October nights unmatched anywhere in the world.
He was wiry, suntanned, vigorous, open, all howdies and glad talk and even yelling hello to bums on the street and when asked a question answered right off the bat from the top or bottom of his mind I don't know which and always in a sprightly sparkling way.