Author: Jorden Blucher

  • Boot Cotton Mills

    On black and white New York StreetsI stood with Dean Moriarty Snow fell on discarded vending machinesArrayed along a sagging chain-link fence I felt the rumble of the freight carsAs I dragged on my last cigarette Watching the scroll unfurlEnamored with the marvelous ideaOf traversing the country unbidden Preserving the memoriesI could not relive