A Gonzo poem without parts dedicated to Hunter Thompson and my friend Ron Whitehead
By: Larry Jaffe
I turned neither left nor right
and wondered how it was possible
to stay straight on center
when turning was superstition
and leaving home was birthright
I turned again in wonder
and deeply watched
mental midgets juggling
parts of my brain
in hysterical laughter
I turned over allowing
blood to coagulate
with differing opinions
like clowns reading Sanskrit
in Cleopatra’s tomb
I turned around
in hyperbolic disdain
causing my entrails
to dissipate
in the ether
I turned away
friends left their
friendly environments
and paused at the zoo
never realizing they
were behind bars.
