11,647. GENERALLY, GERTIE

GENERALLY, GERTIE

Generally, Gertie, you bust my chops,

but now I'll sing a new song for you. I

have the fever that brings down trees, 

that cuts the flowers, that brings you

home. But I've run out of ideas as well.

Is it OK, are you sure, if I stand here

idly by? There's a popsicle man at

Little 12th street, holding a carbine

in his frozen hands. Going deep, 

everyday, into the freezer-chest he

pushes about : looking for parks

and playgrounds and all those tired

kids screeching 'lemon and cherry' 

ice. He's already told me it gets

really tiresome; but evenso I 

never thought he'd crack, 

or I never thought he'd 

crack like this. And

generally, Gertie, I

can make a good

guess.