hiː spˈɛnt fˈaɪv dˈeɪz ɪn dʒˈeɪl ænd kˈeɪm ˈaʊt sˈʌmθɪŋ əvə kˈʌltʃɚ hˈiəɹoʊ, bˌʌt hiː ɹᵻfɹˈeɪnd fɹʌm ɪŋklˈuːdɪŋ ðə pˈoʊᵻm ɪn hɪz fˈɜːst pˈoʊɪtɹi bˈʊk, wˌɪtʃ ɐpˈɪɹd ɪn nˈaɪntiːnhˈʌndɹɪd sˈɪksti sˈɪks ɪn ɐ sˈæmɪzdˌæt ᵻdˈɪʃən, fˈʊl ʌv ɐbsˈɜːdɪst ɪɹˈɛvɚɹəns, plˈeɪfəlnəs, ænd wˈaɪld ɐbˈændən.
He spent five days in jail and came out something of a culture hero, but he refrained from including the poem in his first poetry book, which appeared in 1966 in a samizdat edition, full of absurdist irreverence, playfulness, and wild abandon.