Been listening to One Fast Move Or I’m Gone
the soundtrack to Kerouac’s Big Sur
and it’s as if I’ve been listening for years
never stopping always looping
and making the lyrics my life
even when I’m not sure of every
word and even when I can’t
remember if I read Big Sur
and if I did read it, if I
understood it and I probably
didn’t because I love him
the way any woman loves a man
who drinks and writes and
runs around on her
and his words mean everything to
my little heart even though I
never quite get them because
they exist always out of reach in fast
type scrolled and pounded
and I could never live a life
like that. And still, I listen
to the lilt and twang and
I hold hope that something
gives so I can finally go.