Tuesday, September 8, 2009

528. BRING ME SOMETHING NICE

BRING ME SOMETHING NICE
The high plains are interesting -
a place where birds seem to swim in the
air and only the most reverential moments
survive. We remember only what we want.
I shan't bother to relate again all those stories
and tales : that sharpshooter who lost his
lunch and got sick on the balcony roof,
the country squire dandy with some regal
but local whore wrapped around his arm.
Ah, but, lest I go on and do exactly what
I said I wouldn't do, I'll stop.
I must forget you too.

No comments: