[Please note: these poems are translated from phonecalls received and published by a newspaper Kerouac once covered sports for. The translator is not responsible for whatever the original caller was trying to say].
Young professionals.
Evicted by state college.
Not good for PR.
Lots of bad people.
Police protect us from them.
They don’t create them.
Tuition went up.
College is a lib’ral scam.
Overpaid hippies.
We need Joe Biden.
Lonely eyes need a savior.
Bleak choice churns stomachs.
Asians have accents.
We don’t need accents heeah.
We speak cleeahly.
Police aren’t perfect.
But overall they’re not bad.
Just do as you’re told.
UMass will eat us.
None of our houses are safe.
Tax exempt monster.
Hit-and-run driver.
Wiped out all of our mirrors.
Shit ton of bad luck.
Sell the town golf course.
Use that to help your children.
Stop socialized golf.
Fireworks are ignored.
Going off late into night.
Real easy to trace.
FBI was wrong.
Polls show we doubt what they found.
Called in twice myself.
Time clock company.
Must have gotten big tax breaks.
We should all punch out.
Transgender babies?
Let them learn how to walk first.
Figure that out later.
Enforce the gun laws.
Require ID for voting.
Get off of my lawn.
School breakfast program.
Kids shouldn’t eat at their desks.
Have bus use drive-thru.
Big dough not to work.
She was willing to stay on.
A town loses twice.
They do speak English.
Play dumb when need arises.
Hearts bleed for liars.
Donny knows trouble.
It comes from other countries.
Observant carrot.
Won’t attack mailman.
Need to protect welfare checks.
[direct deposit?]
Let’s all move forward.
Times will challenge all our wills.
But it’s just football.
Sons of Franky Cabot 