The Trip With Ashlie And Jason - Poem by Carl A.I.
Driving through the open range;
the mountains, and the plains,
with friends who's names I have not yet
forgotten, like all the rest of them.
And Dean Moriarty, I see your ghost
drive past us, and drive through us
in an old
war era Chevrolet.
Already we have gone through
and a half gallon of whiskey.
The trip has only
And the car smells
of stale cigarette smoke,
that escapes with the indian reservation
atmosphere, every time
we roll down the window.
And the car smells of numerous bacteria,
and wet vaginas,
and morphine nights.
We round the corner to our
because I know that by the end
of this trip,
I will be
And you will lose my friendship
as I have lost my blood
that seeps into the permeable earth;
from which I came forth.
You unforgiving motherfucker!
Now all I have
to leave behind my legacy
are these words.
Dean, I saw you were headed west,
I'm begging you to let me
as far as san fransisco
where we will
posthumously tear up the town.
Comments about The Trip With Ashlie And Jason by Carl A.I.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You