dancing the left ear disco in line at the bank
with a banana in my back pocket
and 16 days heavy
as a sock full of quarters.
writing heart-felt poetry
on the back of my hand
with a blue felt pen
and practicing
aparigraha.
muggy
Friday nights
googling Sanskrit
and staring at the girl
with the black skirt
sans stockings
gray shoes
red laces
texting
sidewalks
from San Francisco.
(fading
the shattered concrete dream of the American West
still smoldering
like smoke)
from the opium dens
and quaking from the memory of Mardou.
and 16 days heavy
as a sock full of quarters.
writing heart-felt poetry
on the back of my hand
with a blue felt pen
and practicing
aparigraha.
muggy
Friday nights
googling Sanskrit
and staring at the girl
with the black skirt
sans stockings
gray shoes
red laces
texting
sidewalks
from San Francisco.
(fading
the shattered concrete dream of the American West
still smoldering
like smoke)
from the opium dens
and quaking from the memory of Mardou.
Kerouac's Mardou, Ailene Lee
my Mardou, texting pictures from San Francisco
*illustration by Saylor
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