Nobody knows the other side     of my house, My corner where I was born,     dusty guitars Of my tired little street where      with little feet I beetled and I wheedled      with my sisters And waited for afternoon sunfall      call a kids And ma's to bring me back      to supper mainline Hum washing line tortillas      and beans, That Honey Pure land,      of Mominu, Where I lived a myriad      kotis of millions Of incalculable      be-aeons ago When white while joyous     was also Center of lake of light   © Jack Kerouac, 1959; Mexico City Blues

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