If it’s a chore you won’t like it.
You will consider half of the journey
shameful and exhausting.
Every early morning run to the liquor store
will be a shameful thing and you will
choke on all the smoke, the
smoke after smoke after smoke.
Do not get into this scene, if you want
you’re hands to be lazy.
You will be scrawling all night.
You will be chalking the brick.
You will see words in your puke
and poetry in your piss, alone.
You will not like this if you
do not already fucking love this.
This is the little village
on the way to Rock n Roll.
This is the beaten hand and road.
Put your thumb up and hitch on by.
You won’t find a dry eye in this spot.
And if you do
it’s just sleeping.