To Swish

I used to swish and swosh with you
In mire, like pigs we aspired
To lick the dirt from screams
Desert the mean dying weens

What fun I had then, free... in Kerouac's dreams
No burden of the thinking man
No duty to my fellow woman

Just songs, poetry, thoughts with booze
The shackles shaken with busted moves
And curvacious ladies' ooze

Always though towards some realm
Ideas like sap sucked up the elm
How long can you go on delaying?
The flower must blossom, unless
You poison it with L & M and rum


23.07.13