HOW I FEEL GRATITUDE
I feel gratitude for nothing at all :
starry mind of the moon and
the Heavens, deep-dish daughter
of Neptune's swans. Nothing.
I hold dear to myself, that's all.
-
I'm stumbling my broken gait through
the paradise at Chumley's alley; all
what once was, and is now gone.
It is 1924 again, and I wear that same
old worsted jacket that goes with the
pants. No other gin-soaked alibi will do.
-
Lighter things have happened in these
days of old. The Parcheesi guy who just
kept coming around, and - oddly so -
even my own grandmother was only 24.
-
The little man, swilling English beer and
holding onto his Pomeranian dear. The
two made such a couple - fireplace
heart, open-door meeting, kissing like
guzzling mavens - a regular pirate, he.
-
I spent enough time at Chumley's to die
there - and money enough to buy the
selfsame moon and stars; and money
enough to buy the moon and stars.
I feel gratitude for nothing at all :
starry mind of the moon and
the Heavens, deep-dish daughter
of Neptune's swans. Nothing.
I hold dear to myself, that's all.
-
I'm stumbling my broken gait through
the paradise at Chumley's alley; all
what once was, and is now gone.
It is 1924 again, and I wear that same
old worsted jacket that goes with the
pants. No other gin-soaked alibi will do.
-
Lighter things have happened in these
days of old. The Parcheesi guy who just
kept coming around, and - oddly so -
even my own grandmother was only 24.
-
The little man, swilling English beer and
holding onto his Pomeranian dear. The
two made such a couple - fireplace
heart, open-door meeting, kissing like
guzzling mavens - a regular pirate, he.
-
I spent enough time at Chumley's to die
there - and money enough to buy the
selfsame moon and stars; and money
enough to buy the moon and stars.
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