The House that Jack Kerouac Built
full of anecdotes and real world
mythologies tampered by the patois
of the north,
and poetry pages so far from filial,
bloated with cognac, and
a winking jade buddha under
a darius mosaic sundial.
(Seventy thousand
Billion Four Thousand
Eighty Two Trillion
Voices for Creation--
till the bullet when bang)
I'm a kitten on your patchwork quilt
in the house that jack kerouac built.
