Saturday, March 28, 2015

6533. MY PENNYWHISTLE RUNS THIS CAGE

MY PENNYWHISTLE 
RUNS THIS CAGE
While the knife-wielding man terrorized Princeton,
I was sitting alone on a couch of mud  -  just like
Huck Finn and Jim, watching the river roll by.
Just had nothing to do : my months of faulty
disclosure and M&M's at the factory were
over. I'd squandered my last minute, and then
lit out west. Like a real man, or a varmint
at least. My rifle stock was newly waxed.
-
Every agreement we come to has a catch 
somewhere: to do this or not to do that. 
You've really got to be careful. And then
the cop peering in the window of your
fine fast car, wants to know where you're
heading. It must have been nice before
there were cops on the river too. Passbooks,
informational overload, and visas to the
very next old river-town. My, my, 
how all things have changed.

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