Reading too much Kerouac
I wake up every morning crying
. "I don't want to be here" and cursing
Roger Williams for not running down the coast a bit
. He could have gone to New York City
Settled in Brooklyn and all that Jazz
Everything I do is the last thing I'll do
. I have to get that last bit right
I won't have another chance
. To get that last bit, write
Our place sits abandoned in Brooklyn
. We had three months to get out
I look up and wonder why these lines are indented
. I want to get out of them
And make a sonnet before it's too late again
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