kerouac’s cave 

i'm at gunther's tap room
northport long island
where jack kerouac drank himself to death from 1958 to 1962

there’s a wall painter here today and he
says this is the fourth time he's
painted the dump since 1988

the bar tender keeps feeding him
bottles of bud so he works instead of yapping

when his beer is drained he yaps till he gets fed another

the colors are orange and brown and he says the bar will look like year round halloween – the painter says repeatedly 

in the corner near a cigarette burned pool table

is one faded framed newspaper story about jack kerouc

drinking here and showing up to play softball – sometimes

the bartender remembers jack and said he was a quiet loner

and a drunk with no money – after he became famous he’d bring signed copies of his books in exchange for whiskey-

mostly he sat in the corner and drink till he passed out  


jack kerouac is no hero here – and -
this place is no tourist attraction
still just a bunch of drunks at the bar - every body wishing each other happy new year and its now january 30th as johnny cash sings i never got over those blues eyes and  wonder if she got over the sorrow. the painter “cheer-leads” the drunks to give it up for mr. cash – the best redneck ever - as johnny switches to i walked the line- on the nicotine tinted old juke
 

this joint finished off one famous writer and probably produced countless anonymous mental patients



copyright poetography  2009