a man's fireside

  • i'm reading Big Sur to remember you and maybe a piece of who i used to be. you asked me to turn around, but the summer already has its noises in my ears and the sun already made her mark on my back. i know i stayed a little too long.

    i smoke brick weed and feel so high school. you hit the bong in your rich aunt's beach house. i got kicked out of my summer classes and you're going up the mountain for yours. six short months and i'll be back with friends, midnight on the atlantic with our 40s and no shoes. waking up to go to class with a headache for the commute. and you'll be in another continent reading Big Sur in the tall grass, for the second time. you'll meet a girl on a sailboat, tattoo for every border she crossed and freckled by the sun. you'll tell her all about how you think Kerouac would be really boring to talk to but agree with whatever she thinks in the end. i'll be happy and i won't miss it.

    the sea has its waves, the man has his fireside, period

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