My concept of a love poem. This was written on June 9th, 2010. I met her in May.

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Supertramp

Hippies are full of shit.

Maybe you misunderstood him
when he sat on the
bumper of his winnebago,
begging for money.

He asked for coins…not change.

Hippies seeking revolution is a thing of the past.
That all died long before Jerry, and that guy left us with nothing
but a flavor of ice cream for all of his overweight birkenstock-donning followers.

Do you know how tie-dye works?
You bind a cloth with rubber bands in order to prevent the entire material from
being colored.

Do you know how hippies work?
You bind a human being with hallucinogens in order to prevent the entire being from feeling anything bad.

You were too kind. You gave him your beauty, your love, and your confidence.

But you’re a smart girl.

You kept the one thing he needed most…

that gorgeous uprising playing an eternal improvisation in your soul.