I sit reading the words
of men long dead
poets, revolutionaries
commies
queers
and hobos

Words of real life
a life I have yet to know
but one day
when I'm good and dead
you'll know I knew.

I might not speak to dead men
but they speak to me
and they say to write
and scream my words to the world

"Fuck their reactions"
shouts Ferlinghetti
"Scream about cock and nothing,"
Cries Ginsburg
"Stratification is art"
Kerouac chimes in

I'll speak my piece
scream about tribulation
offend with my words
and I'll leave this world
no one listens to a living poet

when I write off this world
I'll do it in cursive