I Love Kurt Cobain and Hate Toby Keith

I was walking through
Sunlit and lonely Melvindale,
Which for all intents and purposes
Is mystical Detroit,
And I was thinking about Susan,
Somewhere sad in Pennsylvania.

Boys were playing football,
Which made me lonesome
For Scott and Leroy,
Childhood companions
Lost in time!
A tall mother watering the lawn
Was goddess-like.

Does anyone love Li Po?
Where is Han Shan?
I’d kiss Susan beneath a Maple Tree
If she’d let me read to her
Mexico City Blues by Jack Kerouac.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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