"...not enough ecstasy for me, not enough life, joy, kicks, darkness, music, not enough
night." —Jack Kerouac
It’s hard to wrap our minds around the number as we hone the lineup for not enough night’s tenth issue. In Jack’s spirit our online presence has evoked and evolved his limitless
urge toward that night train where a more wild-eyed music, joy, darkness, life, might
be found.
Snow is already falling onto the thready torso of summer’s hammock, and in these last
spreads of warm dark sidewalks we find ourselves unwilling to relinquish the connection
of being out in it all. We long to sit further and further into the night with our
backs resting against the trunk of a high ground pine. We refuse to take our gaze
from the moon, our dancing from the salsa club neon strings of light, our voices from
the gala mingling street crowds. Bare-armed energies of a sleepless drive toward that
horizon of dissolving pitch. Jack’s haiku our guiding star:
When the moon sinks down to the power line. I’ll go in
That lone whistle rolls up from the tracks over south Denver singing the truth of
those Beatific Beats and calling up a melancholy rush in time that will never, can
never, slow. We ride and gather under stars works for your provocative discern.
A tenth of anything marks a wheeling in the air and we are delighted to share this
spin with you.
