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Kerouac

handsome garçon, seeing the forest for the trees
with incandescence in your cool ocean eyes
unsure
of the future
but so keenly insightful about the present.

smacking your lips as the hum of time enchants
your every thought
scraping steaming pink flesh thoughts
against the rocky surfaces
of the sturdy, ever-standing edifices of your time.

playfully, covertly, overtly thinking,
‘there is more’.
tongue garbled by romance,  yet spitting phrases far crisper
than the leaves that inspire it
a mind boiling with Nature in a body built perfectly by it.

oh golden boy, you know your power
at every ticking moment,
with every new travel.
laundry list  of pulsed moments
that comprise your pilgrimage for more.

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