Hot Také

DRiNK

your own melancholy music

pushing pushing you further into a self inflicted pit

of who the fuck

and what and why and when

you’ll be ruler straight

as narrow as a hot wheels track

bending forever round

a preconditioned hairpin

you hope will, one day

straighten out.


Christ bury the shock

the day you realise

you’re going in

endless devastating precipitated circles.

haahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

help us please.


Look upon this plea

and give our spines a wholesome hug

a hug we’ve been begging for

for half a generation, and one

that maybe we can

pass on

beyond our feeble arms.

Beat me

I am a beat poet

Born eighty years too late.

Introduce me

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.