wanderer.

kerouac got a lot of big breaks
for one
being twenty-something
in a time where
beaneries existed
and coffee cost a nickel.

i sit here eating a $3 slice
of pizza, mediocre
at best, without a drink,
with a vague
three year plan
(including a shoddy road map)

i don't even have my license
or a car
or money
but neither did he, i guess.

everyone here's
pockets sag
as low as mine
cold as a made bed.
if i keep my hands
stuffed in 'em
and shuffle
shuffle through
boundries, city limits,
and hipster meccas--

breaks don't fly
through yellowed
bedroom windows.