Poem - Over Near the Big Christian Indian in Lowell


Over Near the Big Christian Indian in Lowell

I got to a Lowell cemetery

to the gravesite of Jack Kerouac.

They say that information Is just alienated experience.

That’s just another way of saying life is more fucked up than the news.

So, it follows that the grave is just alienated information about a life.

Senseless too. 

Senseless as Jack, whose is dead, 

and oblivious to the rhythms of you and your soulmate

making love to the idea of screwing near Jack, 

and each other.

Drunk on Cognac or boredom

You’ll eventually come to terms 

With how separate anything afterlife is.

It’s more meaningless than information. 

Less than memory, or being hated, 

or sharing a smoke with your soulmate 

after a good lay in the graveyard.

Published in Duck Lake Books August 2019


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