Kerouac in the Inky Night

The vermillion paint splattered on Shavon’s white t-shirt
was preceded by the ricochet of a back firing Volvo
that awoke us from my slumber.

I held you tightly and knew your old Mexican dreams were new to you.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s