(sort of based on suggestions from @matchtrick. With apologies to Ginsberg.)
I saw the best finds of my adoration employed by sadness, carving the empirical hatred,
bagging themselves through the ego fleets with brawn, cooking up their stagnant tricks,
strange light-headed trickters yearning for the precient malady reflection, of a sorry stiletto in the austerity of sight,
through coveting and chatter and sallow-thighed and wry sat up choking in the uber-factual snarkiness of old autocrats gloating across the slops of universities nominating the 'known as',
who cared to strain and leaven to the swell and implored imagined strangers, swaggering sentimental proofs elucidated
who glassed through machineries with salient school ties, illuminating arc and flaw and rake-like parody along the dollars of more.
Bit of an odd beast, this one. @matchtrick asked for a beat poem, but somehow when I was researching I ended up deciding to make a phonetic copy beat poem out of the start of Allen Ginsberg's Howl. I'm such a hipster. Bring me my single origin coffee and my ukelele, serving wench. Why doesn't ANYTHING useful rhyme with 'jazz'?
You can read the first 6 lines I made this poem out of, here.
Also blogger is being an arse about formatting, so apologies if this post has weird line breaks/font sizes. I can't fix it without throwing the laptop across the room, and then where would we be? Up the proverbial without a brass-handled proverbial.