A Kerouac Afternoon.

Penniless on a traded lie for a life.
Finally found in a hazel eye.
Walking around in the finest sky of nowhere.
An afternoon of series after series.
After serious reasons of grief.
Get a grip, man.
Out and displaced.
Creek.
Lying in mud.
More comfort when the blood settles at the bottom.
Old and torn.
Beat up some wolves.
Crawled while crying to my hole in the river.
One with the fishes.
And other earthly fuel.



Garrett Johnson.