Monday, October 8, 2012
We Were Hemingways
We lived just like Hemingway;
Thinking all intellectuals smoked,
Living shit-faced every day.
We weren’t the products of parents,
Or the meanest grade school nun,
Trading instead, the theatrical hit,
For a thrill packed, short lived run.
None of my friends were famous,
Or even published when they died,
Yet each of them carried volumes
Detailing one hell of a ride.