—on the train to Sloan Kettering—
a boot-back
Kerouac
at the window
watches the river
rattle on by
a hard grey rain
spinning
like a spider
—the train door slams—
the carny red
sky retreats
sometimes
the ripple of
a tree.
[]
—on the train to Sloan Kettering—
a boot-back
Kerouac
at the window
watches the river
rattle on by
a hard grey rain
spinning
like a spider
—the train door slams—
the carny red
sky retreats
sometimes
the ripple of
a tree.