The Hurry

[rowens]

Basically, I've been unable to leave the town. From mansion to chain restaurant-like bar to on the street, fitting in nowhere, over time and through physical place changes, a rural area becoming urbanized. A small town that the highway passes by. Leaving me trapped and unknown, drunk, poor and repeating similar things over and over. That's where I was talking from. While drunk time changes to the present, here and there are Hart Crane-mode compressions of words and actions. And poetry still a mug's game. -- So you pretty much got the gist of it.

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I'm the type of jerk who writes the kinds of poems that expect you to read all my other writings so I can leave out as much context as I want in any given instance.