I better go get another
beer from the frig
"you know we could be the next Neal and jack!"
he said
"naw, us?... com' on yur druunx...yoou don'ts evend naw wh ut yur talkin' bout
they were mad crazy kicks man, we're new wave hipsters with no luck, fuct by tech no ology
my frrriennd"
I slurred back.
it was my fifth beer and after the bong hits
the pipes the pills and the occasional blow jobs
I thought- I could be Kerouac's ghost broke, restless and confused
shot in the dark it just be
holy-God-Christ toying with man kind letting them know
he doesn't shit around
with no talent
fools that forgot the railroad
but my railroad of the dirt-dust-to-ash-grave
is covered with graff
and the new rhythm is still
black fueled hip hop with a hustler and
dope dealer's Iceberg slim-pen
but again
who am I to say
what
I
AM...
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