An Ode To Jack Kerouac

from the unwritten prison memoirs of Neal Cassady

You seemed to be
         a good friend
your writing wasn’t half-bad either.

As a get-high buddy
                    you couldn’t always quite keep up
         but for a wannabe
                  you were o.k.

Then I got locked down
          for the grass
                   for the duration
          and while I was slammed down
                  you were good to my family
                           and better than that
                                    to my wife.

I never really got around
           to telling you how I felt
                   before I laid myself
                            on the railroad tracks
                                     next to my bottle of wine
                            and was cut by iron wheels

but before the iron wheels
                   cut me
                   you did

when you laid my wife down
           in her loneliness
                      and screwed her down
with your wannabe writer’s cock.

You always said I was good
        but you know, Jack
                  you were better

And all I want to say is
         FUCK YOU
                    Jack Keroauc

from one con
                     who really knows!