Some things are better off undiscovered,
like Kerouac's New Play,
and a decroded old dog turd.
Or a poem written by anyone.
Let me guess,
the play's about a bunch of high pseudointellectuals
who run around all over New York
acting like they're smart and
changing the world. HA!
And they have all these great new ideas
and there's probably something somewhere
about cosmic vibrations.
Horrible.
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