A sun in every pot

Desert at night and getting hotter
underfoot when Kerouac falls
and bleeds a little lighter in the soil

where in peace rests
a bundle of hydrogen once loved
by all his people and all his plants

too stoned to remain
their father’s children in the desert night
upon a graveyard of summer

Advertisements

~ by Jeremy on June 17, 2009.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: