CAN SOMEONE PLEASE
ASSIST THE SERVANT
Oh ye of little faith, please tend to the
hired hand. He comes with but a candle,
light flickering, and seeks a way through.
I've tasked him with my soul; should I
now leave it up to you? Outside on
Larimor Street they've parked the
yellow car : again, it holds five people.
Not being a large car at all, their comfort
level must be low, yet, like detectives on
a stake-out, they just sit and wait, and stare.
Perhaps they talk among themselves with
their crummy paper coffee-cups. I wouldn't
wish to be in their employ.
Today could just have easily been, for me,
a travel day. Headed northwest, I was due in
Binghamton two months ago. But I never
made the turn and just kept going, like
Magellan, and it brought me all back
home again. My sextant, my compass,
my first mate, and my steward. all
useless now to me. Like that tattooed
guy in Moby Dick, I don't even
want to look.-