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On Hudson and West 11
West Village
The White Horse Tavern
A pub for the alcoholic artists back then
But I don't care about any of them
I just want to talk to Dylan Thomas
and beg him

Oh Dylan Thomas
Don't you ever come over
The White Horse Tavern again
Here you won't find any Ginsbergs
It's 2007
with its tourists and computers
and poets turning into ketchup bottles

Oh Dylan Thomas
Don't you ever come over
The White Horse Tavern again
There's not even music
the evening's main event is a baseball game
and the fucking Yankees won

Oh Dylan Thomas
Don't you ever come over
The White Horse Tavern again
It's raining
It's tuesday
the only poetry around is the face of a woman
winking at me from a yellow car
or maybe she's just crying
because tonight
tonight
I'm going after your eighteen whiskies record


Picture by Shanna Ravindra