Saturday, July 4, 2015


The Paragin Brohters are always on parade.
I watched, but I got nothing. Not even a 
penny-picture for a five-dollar postcard.
The lady-in-waiting Jane was hanging 
around, and it was all I could do to pass 
her by. Me. Oh. My. I had a question to 
ask, but forgot about it completely. 
I went blind in one eye.
How is it that such things always happen? I read
the Bible, I went to school, I did my homework,
I stayed within the lines. I caught the fastest 
fastball Bob Pirnik could throw, yet all it did 
was burn my palm. Now  -  what!  -  they sit
around listening in 1970's music, very loud. 
I too love the Allman Brothers with the very
seat of my pants. In Memory of Elizabeth
Reed I could take to my grave.
Now the punk alliance : the sticky one who
brags about his Mohawk back when he was
teen. The girl in black, with the black fingernails,
she won't shut up about Debbie Harry. I really
don't care. Did I tell you I once slept with 
Chrissy Hynde? It was all it was cracked
up to be.

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