THE USUAL BELLS
AND WHISTLES
If this whistle-stop tour can't stop for me I'll just
let it keep on rolling past. Like some Harry Truman
on parade, I'll campaign from the imaginary platform
of a caboose rolling by. Vote for me, so usually.
-
The Mayor of Swineland has just stopped by : he's got
a Dick Tracy ring-finger transmitter on, and it's blinking
a horrid red. I'd ask him what the matter is, but I know
that he don't talk. ('Oh Mama, can this really be the end?').
So let's have another cup of coffee, and let's throw the
whole thing out.
-
I imagined this entire sequence. I imagined this entire life.
My Horn & Hardart pit-stop food break has just about
run out.
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