The decibel bells and the catch-all tunes are playing
from the ukulele, like the bells from the top of Riverside
Church. I swear to myself I want to have a hundred million
dollars soon, just to give it all away, or most of it anyway.
And I'm quite serious - I know my sister needs a car, my
kid can use a house and a truck, the lady down the street
could use new windows. The guy I know who needs that
operation : Bingo. And, more, again, to everyone I love.
What need I for anything now? Excuses, lame schemes,
the pierced and broken lungs of someone living in a tunnel,
breathing railroad fumes and shitting in the corner. He too
deserves my chance. I'll hire him to garden all my dreams.