Saturday, February 13, 2016

7804. DICE ME, THESE HANDS

DICE ME, THESE HANDS
However many it may take, this virtuous heave
is yours. I am on the stage, loving all these people.
The silicon rivals, the papered tables, the waiters who
wait in the wings, they are each watching me for
something. I can't even remember the day  -  today,
is it Saturday, or am I wrong again? The calendar
page I depended so on, has fallen, leaving me only
the catalogue of a year, with no days or dates.
Heaven helps those who help.
-
In such a carnival atmosphere, I am sure if there's
an itch, I'll scratch it. Here, together now, I am
painting this tall wall white; or another shade of
something. There's a movie house, as I recall,
on the western edge of 14th Street, where I
really should be going now : Instructional
films on redecorating these old apartments.
-
I know that many students will come; they love
these sorts of things   -  hanging out, with pizza and
a bottle, to learn about their two-room student quarters
and all that they can do with thirty bucks.
It ain't much, but it's a start.

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