Daze of Wine and Kerouac
flight time again, west bound
as dharma trails unfold ahead
trek trek treking
hitching and hiking through
fields of green and gold
and down black highways, byways,
and taking me to Old San Fran
across the land alone
alive ablaze
nightfall finds me lying
under the dancing stars
under that one o’clock moon
dreaming of the days of
wine and Kerouac
they are upon us once again
then as day breaks
forging forward I go
onward toward the bright lights
night lights of red and blue
the flashing neon city is alive
arriving at last
feet fat, tired and aching
as Jack’s ghost comes to my
side, whispers
“I’ve been here before”
and as my journey ends
I realize it is only
just the beginning
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