April 23.

I’m not sure whats up with the milk crate.  Someone must have sat for a while.


I have come on
a whim.  I rember
in your word, Lowell.
On the road was
the first book I even
read the second was 
dharma bums
your words always were
golden, glizening, triumphant
this I Know is’nt the
lowell you once knew
unfortunately thing
are different now
from your columbian
days.  Picking up this
insipid profession is
scary.  Writing is like nothing
else its less obvious
and require analysis to know
if it’s shit or not

what ever happens

to me it doesn’t

even matter to you

I came with the

essence of youth of

vitality im it thank

you, look out for me


 – Howie

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