a poem by Wayne Mason
some poems about factory floors you will surely draw comparisons to Levine about beer or fucking puts you directly in Bukowski's giant shadow writing poems to Charlie Parker will likely make people cry 'Jack Kerouac' with nothing to do or say, it's all been done no other way to pass the time but slamming cheap beer in my dirty garage with Bird wailing jiving and swinging little matters outside of this otherwise quiet little hood your opinion |