I Love Kurt Cobain And Hate Toby Keith
I was walking through
Sunlit and lonely Melvindale,
Which for all intents and purposes
Is mystical Detroit,
And I was thinking about Susan,
Somewhere sad in Pennsylvania.
Boys were playing football,
Which made me lonesome
For Scott and Leroy,
Lost in time!
A tall mother watering the lawn
Does anyone love Li Po?
Where is Han Shan?
I’d kiss Susan beneath a Maple Tree
If she’d let me read to her
Mexico City Blues by Jack Kerouac.