Beatnik Poem

Philippa Fallon recites the greatest beat poem of them all from 'High School Confidential', 1958, dir Jack Arnold.



Transcription:
My Old man was a bread stasher all his life
He never got fat
He wound up with a used car, a 17 inch screen
Arthritis
Tomorrow is a drag, man
Tomorrow is a king sized bust
They cry put down pot
Don't think a lot
For what?
Time, how
Much and what to do with it
Sleep, man, and you might wake up digging the whole human race
Giving itself 3 days to get out
Tomorrow is a drag pops, the future is a flake
We cough blood on this earth
Now there's a race for space
We can cough blood on the moon, soon
Tomorrow is dragsville, cats
Tomorrow is king-sized drag
Tool a fast short
Swing with a gassy chick
Turn on to a 1000 joys
Smile on what happened, or check what's gonna happen
You'll miss what's happening
Turn your eyes inside and dig the vacuum
Tomorrow, Draaaaag