51
What’d I write last night?
The morning is coffee
And looking through notebooks
52
Twenty-eight and still too scared
To say thrice into the mirror,
“Bloody Mary?”
53
Moon at an acme
That no company could match —
Din of merger news
54
Kerouac’s best haiku
Were the ones that went
Uncollected
55
A retreat
Into alcoholism, no
Not me
The Writing of John B. Randall 