It's late at night
Really late
and I'm awake
thinking about a lot of things
namely
Kerouac's memories
of the small town he grew up in
and the seasons of change
that shaped him
and the City that drew him in
and the hurricanes
brought on by adulthood
that forged him
In this time of night
close to the hours of the morn
I know that if I begin it
right now
I can write
The Great American Novel
in one great stream of
consciousness
in one majestic session
where my fingers hammer out
with fervent vigor
the sum of me
the theory of things
Really late
and I'm awake
thinking about a lot of things
namely
Kerouac's memories
of the small town he grew up in
and the seasons of change
that shaped him
and the City that drew him in
and the hurricanes
brought on by adulthood
that forged him
In this time of night
close to the hours of the morn
I know that if I begin it
right now
I can write
The Great American Novel
in one great stream of
consciousness
in one majestic session
where my fingers hammer out
with fervent vigor
the sum of me
the theory of things
