all poems are odepoems

I have friends across the decades/
and might as well be centuries/that separate us.
Ferlinghetti tucks me in/at night
Kerouac remains by my side/from coast to coast
Ginsberg and I scream our discontent/
in the nicest way possible/
all love and flowers
Burroughs dines with me/
at every meal
NC/secret hero of it all/
runs madman and sideways the whole time
We all know each other now/
Not as well as before/but maybe
someday/as good again.