90. MAKE MINE RICH MOMENTS

MAKE MINE RICH MOMENTS
Abracadabra and all the rest.
I haven't been doing much lately;
seem to have lost my touch. The gloved hand,
in leather, smacks my face but once or twice -
and then I'm startled back to form. Urging forward
furiously again - streaming notes from a car-keys-fob
as a wailing siren declaims intent. Everything
is hazy - the crowd, the mob, the dungaree factions
of farmers and knaves, all those fools who listen.
-
Just like that, some sun bursts over the horizon.
Crisp cold morning where the cuckoo once sang.
Ice is on bare branches and someone's sliding car
drives all shiny by. The lazy garbage truck by the
circle tries one more time to make that turn.
-
It's all over before it's started.
Another wild day sneers.
(Now where am I gonn'a go after this?).