About to put pen to paper
it hits me, and I wonder
how many poets have wrote
about going to some party
with a guy called Dean Moriarty?
My recent visit to Yeats' grave
when Benbulbin hid
in low cloud
I found confusion in the question
of why someone so profound might want
to be buried with a gift shop so close by?
I, no horseman, still passed by.
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