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