IN THE MANNER
OF SYLVESTER
'Irretrievable,' if it is, as they say it is,
leaves out so many things : I want to just
shop in that old record store, diving and
dozing for nothing at all. 'Lightning Striking
Again,' as Lou Christy would have had it,
back in 1966. What a glum chum that was.
-
It was all about the heart and some winsome
girl of one's dreams. There was nothing better
than that at all; and everyone had one, differently.
From a boy's point of view, I'm talking. I don't
know what girls did. Anyway, this other guy,
the black dude, we called him Sylvester, and
it stuck. Like fame struck fortune too.
-
Now I'm just the stupid old guy left. A
portion of really bad attitude lingers, and
all that too leaves me bad-off. But old
guys aren't supposed to be that way, so
what do I have to do? Smile in agree'd
on dribble? Nod my yes to everything,
and park only where I'm told to park?
-
Yes, that's it; in the manner of
Sylvester, park only where told.
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