Did you know of what to come,
when you drove across America in that
broken van,
zooming past the fields of poor farmers and
their dreaming daughters on the porch,
piercing holes in the night?
those who came inbetween and flickered
by
for a split second, pierced too

while searching for God in a stolen
car in Frisco, did you ever think of
the snow wars won and lost
in your grandparents backyard? the
epic cross-country journeys of two miles
to the supermarket?
the eyes of all the people here are hollow now
I dream and carry you
in my pocket

what did your aunt say as your friends
waited out on the streets yelling for you to hurry?
who wrote great poetry when you stood throwing rocks
on the river banks of NY?