by Ross Vassilev
if your mother and father
scream all the time
if you prefer blue sky
and white clouds over people
if you picked your nose
on 9/11 and dream
of Slavic paradises deep
in lost forests
if sunshine on red bricks
makes you think of Kerouac
Jack, we forgive your awful
poems
your daughter Jan
forgives you for abandoning her
the world will always remember you,
Jack
we'll just try to remember the myth
and not the man.
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