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Big Sur

By Michael N. Thompson

The children of Frank Zappa
Litter Highway 199
Even though the 1970’s
Gracelessly departed
A thousand acid trips ago

Minor poets flock
Down to Big Sur
From a rose-colored city,
But backpacks bulging
With two dollar wine
Gives them a false confidence
That soon comes crashing down

Lesbian interns
In charge of archiving
Henry Miller’s pages
Arrive in tow
With misleading intentions,
But inflamed hormones
Only see what they want to see

A couple of clueless Lotharios
Fire off their best lines
To no avail
On a young ingénue
Who only has eyes
For innocent blood
And it’s obvious that Romeo
Is just a Shakespearean character

Running a riot
Between the bards
And bongo players
Only leads to fisticuffs
That park rangers
Tend to frown upon

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