Mae west stomp (a fable)

train goes by every nite the same old time & he, same old man, sits looking into a rosary which reads ‘i told you so’ while rocking back & forth thinking about his eldest son, Hambone, who’s in jail for life — buying beer for the kids & murdering the grocer with a pocket comb — this same old man, with nothing but a bathtub full of memories consisting of: a few Baby Huey for President buttons — a deck of cards with the aces missing — some empty deodorant bottle — a pamphlet of egyptian slogans — three pant legs that dont match & a hollow lynch rope… sits in a candy wrapper chair muttering day in court — day in court — i’ll get it yet — my day in court — a dapper young gentleman with chapped lips rubbed them on the old man’s neck today — the little old man is planning revenge just as the same old time train shakes his whistler’s mother painting off the wall & it gooses him to… day in court — i’ll get it yet — yesterday was not so good either — a fox left him in a clump of mud & some little pest let him have it right in the kisser with a mixture of bamboo, barley & rotten ice cream — there he sits wishing he could get thru to the president — the little old man’s bowels ache so he opens the window to breathe some good fresh air — he inhales deeply — there is a line full of wet underwear — used tires — dirty bed sheets — hats — chicken feathers — an old watermelon — paper plates — some other garments — johnny drumming wind — an indian, passing thru on his way to st. louis, is standing neath the old man’s window — ‘amazing’ he says as he looks up & sees all this stuff on the clothesline suddenly get sucked into a hole… next day, the rent collector comes to get the rent — finds that the old man has disappeared & that the room’s full of garbage — the lady who owns the clothesline, she reports theft to the robber department ‘all my valuables have been stolen’ — she mutters to the inspector — the train still goes by at the same old time & johnny drumming wind, he gets picked up for vagrancy — the rent collector looks around — steals a broken coocoo ‘i think i’ll give it to my wife’ he says — his wife, who is six feet tall & wears a fez, & who, at the minute, by weird circumstance, is riding by on that same old time train — all in all, not much happens in chicago

i’m not saying that books are

good or bad, but i dont think

youve ever had the chance to find

out for yourself what theyre all

about — ok, so you used to get B’s

in the ivanhoe tests & A minuses

in the silas marners… then you

wonder why you flunked the hamlet

exams — yeah well that’s because one

hoe & one lass do not make a spear

the same way two wrongs do not make

a throng — now that youve been thru

life, why dont you try again… you

could start with a telephone book —

wonder woman or perhaps catcher in

the rye — theyre all the same & everybody

has their hat on backwards thru the

stones

see you at the docks

helpfully yours,

Sir Cringe