I met Mr. Ginsberg once in Maine. He visited a class on Beat writers, and gave a reading in the evening. Afterward, I asked him to sign a copy of Howl and asked him to talk about the thing he calls "that" and Kerouac calls "it". He said everyone feels it, but they hardly ever notice. He told me to notice what I notice. Then he signed my book with a big cartoon penis. I said "I notice there's a big cock in my copy of Howl now." He laughed and said "You're older than 18, right? I really could get in trouble here." I said "yeah, I'm 23."
Dirty old men say the most profound things, eh?
