Just write something. Don’t over analyze
or dramatize. You are so wise
in that disguise the one that you bring
to the table. The table with the leftovers
warmed over, dried on, caked and baked
a dubious pleasure what a treasure
for the tummy it isn’t funny when
you need the Rolaids.
Because you swallowed
a patch of green in a mean
everything bagel that you left out in
the damp a bit too long
And I could hum along
to the song of plop plop fizz fizz
Oh-what a relief it is, remember
the Brioski
that we,
kept
next to the pink Pepto
Bismol, fizzing in a glass
that in one gulp
we drank straight?
It couldn’t wait until morning
it was never boring.
Oh the sass
of the lass and the lad
making whoopee
beneath a dark marquee
while a row of chimneys streamed
black smoke we choked
on the sound
passed another round
of Rolling Stones and
exhaled peace for our brother’s
bones
in Viet Nam
a flashback scene
in a hippy dream
condemning the Man
and making a stand.
You know what I mean
jellybean?
