THE WEISENHEIMER KIDS
Last of the willows. First of the doomed.
We brought home the possibilities then,
in a suitcase while alone at the door. I was
writing the Memoirs of Charles DeGaulle
and just making it up. Paid by the word and
all that. Stayed up once, right through the night
drinking wine and whiskey until even the words
puked out : landy-lady-lakes-looping.
Once I saw, you looked at your watch. It was ten
after five at five after ten. The year was once more
1972; lost in the flood. Bennie and the Jets versus
Ram. Does anyone really know what time it is?