Howl (II)

Bitter romance poem (with a nod to Allen Ginsberg)

Howl (II)

Would I

Drive seven hours

To hold your head in my lap

And stroke your hair?

To tell you everything is going to be alright?

I did.

 

Would I

Drive seven hours

To learn about you and another?

To see you drawn and disheveled?

And smelling of stale smoke?

Jesus. F**k no.