"Suddenly I found myself on Times Square.
I had traveled eight thousand miles around the American continent and I was back on Times Square;
and right in the middle of a rush hour, too,
seeing with my innocent road-eyes the absolute madness and fantastic hoorair of New York
with its millions and millions hustling forever for a buck among themselves, the mad dream-
grabbing, taking, giving, sighing, dying, just so they could be buried
in those awful cemetery cities beyond Long Island City.
The high towers of the land- the other end f the land, the place where Paper America is born.
I stood in a subway doorway, trying to get enough nerve to pick up a beautiful long butt,
and every time I stooped great crowds rushed by and obliterated it from my sight,
and finally it was crushed."
excerpt from "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac
photos by William Eggleston