I am a beat poet
Born eighty years too late.
To Neil Cassady
And Kerouac and William S. Burroughs and beautiful Bukowski.
Induct me into the Dharma Bums.
I’ll sit on a mountain top with you
And visit that higher realm
You always claim to know
If only we’ll never have to leave.
Dancing forevermore to a song
That never will
become as old as us.