I've never really been drawn to the Beats, never really had a Bukowski period, never really liked the feel of a turtleneck on my throat. Don't even get me started on bongos. But I do love the poetry of Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and the character Maynard G. Krebs, and of all the people who drank themselves to death, Jack Kerouac has to be right up... More >>>