half a note yesterday
passed to a teacher
who appeared in a zen moment
that said you are ready
i’m running a kerouac road
with the engine howling like ginsberg
where it terminates
an orchid blooming
in liquid nitrogen fog
turning after your tail like a dog
hammer to the clock to free the cog
i am not what you think i am
pineapple with a leg of ham
jerking off in a traffic jam
coming in hard off a body slam
flipping the bird at a third exam
my inner space is designed to cram