Last night I dreamt that I was you.
I was dressed in all black with dark glasses and attitude.
Such a pose I could simply not hold through days in the northern town that I had once called a home.
Your studies of fringe New York streets: I was reading the pavement in every word you would speak.
To a brownstone up three flights of stairs and it's on...

Buying drinks for the poets upstate, this southern [bad word] towed you down the interstate,
and they all said that you were the king of a gloomy [bad word] that surfaced when you would speak.
This town simply [bad word] so I'm packing my Bullets and Silvertones and heading east
to a brownstone up three flights of stairs and it's on...

If I could have (had) my way this year would bridge '66 (again?)
 [bad word] fund hipsters were casing the room chock full of amphetamines.
The overturned kick [bad word] boom set the pace with [bad word] cool.

And if the tempo was lousy it was lost on all but you...