If I Were a Beat Poet.....(Circa 1957)

I would:

1-Wear skinny, black clothes--the more wrinkles, the better.
2-Own a stunning collection of berets and loafers, also black.
3-Paint my short nails bloody-red. Keep the polish studiedly, carelessly chipped through incessant nail biting.
4-Always wear my long, straight hair in a pony tail.
5-Smoke. A lot. Never be seen without a cigarette, lit or unlit, between my fingers or lips.
6-Drink nearly as much as I smoke.
7-Use my carefully crafted smoky-whisky voice to my advantage while giving readings of my poetry to the wasted,indifferent masses.
8-Change residences--and cities--with impressive alacrity. You cannot pin down a free spirit.
9-When at all possible, sleep on friends' couches and floors or, when pressed,rent the smallest place available.I will not spend much time there, anyway.
10-Write eloquent, pissed-off poetry that very few people will read, until I am good and old or long dead.Fame is for untalented,grubby whores.
11-Sleep around with fellow poets, professors or drifters.
12-Put off eating in favour of other pursuits: poetry,readings,booze and men take up a lot of time. Enjoy the resultant thin figure.
13-Travel to places like Mexico and San Francisco, spur of the moment, at the invitation of twin spirits.See 8.
14-Dabble in all aspects of art:film, publishing,painting, performance art.It is all connected,man.
15-Spend my nights in smoky,hazy jazz clubs in "the bad" part of town where good girls do not go, and are not welcomed.
16-Feign utter indifference to the growing acclaim of the male Beats, who still consider women to be their satellites and playthings. You will regret this when I expose you in my memoirs forty years later.In the meantime, I will continue to craft my poetry and refuse to sew on your buttons.