Brautigan, San Franciso 1965
If
I Were Brautigan
if I were
Richard
Brautigan
I’d
be penniless &
drunk
on watermelon
sugar
in
some warm giddy
bar
w/ optimistically
wrecked
poets
if he had been
me
he’d
admire some man &
the
casual way he tipped
back
a can of Coca Cola
before
moseying toward
December
through
an
impenetrable
paisley fog
if
I were
Richard
Brautigan
I’d
be published &
contented
to succumb
in
a haphazard bodega
dying
of thirst
& a ripe peach
in
plain sight
***
A poem, my first in 2020, from a writing prompt.
Here goes nothing, a new year. New words.
In propinquity,
Nic
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