late one night

the swede got off work at the factory and came home and found his mail order bride dead drunk on the floor. an old wallet was on the table and the swede thought it belonged to the polack. he went out and went down to the beer hall. the irishman said the polack had not been around all that night. the swede went over to ikey rosen’s pawn shop and bought a knife with five blades. next he went over to the laundry but the chinaman had not seen the polack either. the chinaman told the swede to go home and sleep it off. later the chinaman told the oft told tale to sheriff joe black. look very bad, the chinaman said. the swede will be all right the sheriff told him, it’s not like he’s some hotheaded dago who is going to get all excited and go loco. the sheriff went outside and looked down the street. colonel porter’s filipino houseboy snd a couple of negroes were shooting craps in front of miss wilson’s dress shop which was closed for the night. a cloud passed over the moon. the sheriff almost stepped on a black cat and it ran away, spitting fire and rain

last call

long away and far away life was a brand new broadway play folks looked rich but were really broke did nothing all day but drink and smoke style and class were tattered dreams not yet awakened from or so it seems no one entered without knocking a few things were still considered shocking peyton crull was the last of his race he had a drink in his hand and a scar on his face his life had been a total waste he was reputed to have peculiar tastes every afternoon at five peyton almost came alive he switched from gin to whiskey and his eyes grew misty the fire in his brain burned low as he thought of days of long ago but he had other thoughts as well on which he would occasionally dwell he dreamed of a future bright in which everything would be all right a happy day to come in which he would not be a bum in which one happy human race with a single smile on its happy face would hold him in its warm embrace… the fantasy faded, leaving no trace caught like a fly between two spiders trampled on by the other riders on the nostalgia-future train peyton lifted his glass again and drank to those who came before and those still wandering on the shore and those on the horizon dim marching with glittering eyes toward him he drank to the damned and the elect and those who showed him no respect yes, those were the worst of all… did he hear a footstep in the hall?

up on the hill

there once was a guy named bill he had a mule and a dog and lived on a hill the mule wore a hat made in spain and the dog had an old tin can for a brain the dog’s name was frankie lee what else would it be? the mule was called sleepytime joe he always went with the flow they did not get many visitors revenue men or spanish inquisitors an occasional lightning bolt would give them a nudge or a jolt trees grew on the hill the way trees will birds lived in the branches and took their chances snakes crawled on the ground some bigger than others and bears and possums avoided them if they had their druthers one day bill got a postcard from a lawyer in the town and terrible things transpired but nobody wrote them down bill and joe and frankie lee are no longer to be found but a portion of their old black stove still sticks up from the ground

the lizard

i dreamed i was a lizard with a long white shiny tail and i made myself a sandwich while jesse james robbed the mail i found some ham and mustard in the desk of william mckinley but the mustard was a little low and so i spread it thinly boss tweed called my attention to a spider on the wall but the spider was no friend of mine and so i heeded not his call the queen wrote me a letter on which the maid spilled tea i knew that such things happened but not to the likes of me it has been my misfortune to live in troubled times woe and disappointment are the subject of my rhymes o you who ride on snow white steeds and in carriages of gold save your dimes and nickels so that your fortunes my be told do you remember the governess who stole your favorite doll? she tells fortunes down on main street and waits for you to call if you were a nicer person you would favor her with your trade but on second and third thought some things are better left unsaid

the lion

lambs eat grass lions eat lambs humans shoot lions and send urgent telegrams i shot my first lion the telegram reads he thought he would live forever but i was waiting in the weeds the look on his face when he breathed his last was absolutely priceless but the sky was overcast a buzzard circled overhead with a knowing wink i went back to base camp and mixed myself a drink the days go by and we fill them as we can i will see you in london in september, old man by then the nasty rumors will all have died down and we, who will live forever will reconquer the town

thoughts on a cloudy day

rich people have more money than poor people beautiful people are better looking than ugly people young people are younger than old people and don’t know what it was like how about you? do you know what it was like? you can’t get there from here well, maybe you can, you can try it but don’t say i didn’t warn you some days it rains some days it shines some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed it’s a long road that has no turning you can’t fight city hall but you can throw the rascals out it’s time for a change a new day is coming you heard it here first but don’t get your hopes up the clock is ticking they don’t make them like they used to they said it couldn’t be done they could be right, they could be wrong a broken watch tells the right time twice a day that’s all for now my name is joe but tell them jack sent you don’t mention my name i think your mother is calling you she wants you to shine her army boots and so’s your old man that’s all for now i already said that, didn’t i?

the snake

i was born by the river in a little shack i wanted to conquer the world but couldn’t get on track i found a bag of gold in a hole out back and got a ride to town from a guy named mack he left me at the station at fifth and main mixed emotions swirled around in my brain the feelings i had were hard to explain but with the bag of gold i got on the train ckickety clickety clickety clack no one suspected what i had in my sack i bought a ticket for the very last stop at the stroke of midnight off the train i did hop the moon looked down with a wistful frown i put my bag on my shoulder and entered the town the streets were filled with men with guns but i did not know anyone i was accosted by the famous jack slade i looked in his face and was not afraid you look like a tenderfoot, he said give me that bag or i will shoot you dead i handed it over without a qualm knowing i would never come to harm slade opened the bag and a snake popped out he had no time to even shout the snake hardly made a sound and slade fell to the ground the rounders witnessing the scene turned various shades of green the hour has come at last i heard black dan riley gasp the owlhoots all drifted away and night slowly turned to day the end is quickly told the snake did not turn back to gold i was left with no cards up my sleeve and a story no one will believe stranger, take pity on me all i wanted was to be free i grasped at the ghost of a chance but only devils can dance

catfish

i dreamed i was tom sawyer fishing in a muddy stream and tom caught a catfish but it was not what it seemed the catfish was abe lincoln and he tossed tom a dime and said, hold on to it, my boy it must last you for all time be wary, said walt whitman for all this will be forgot what is seen will be wiped clean but what is whispered will not then up stepped henry ford wearing a necktie made of worms for he was not george washington and certainly not george burns do not cut down the cherry tree lest all this glory end tom paine is in the parlor making huey long his friend mr vanderbilt has four aces and grant a pair of kings jesse james looks over his shoulder as boss tweed pulls the strings a new book will be written when the old world returns but the children will not read it for no one ever learns tom reeled in the catfish and took the hook from out its mouth custer set out for the territory ambrose bierce went south

poem for grandma

i wrote this poem i wrote it just for you i really wrote it for grandma so that is not strictly true once there was a little dog who lived in a far away continent he barked like he hated the world but that is not what he really meant the little dog had a friend who took the form of a cat but life is a dream so do not make too much of that the dog and the cat were owned by a merchant named mr smith and that is all i know i hope it is enough to go on with i could tell you a long story if you have nothing but time it may not make much sense and it may not even rhyme mr smith had a secret life in which he was a wizard but everybody has a secret life so that is not so surprising, is it? the dog’s name was doctor doom and the cat’s name was plain jane and i forgot to mention the canary who was isabella, queen of spain there was a cow named dolores she was empress of portugal and a duck named walter worhington who was everybody’s pal there was a worm in the back of the garden named harold trumbull the third and a sheep named little gus who was always true to his word they all had secrets from the authorities and from each other and i will finish the story some other time because that’s all for now, brother

the mystery

just when ethel thought that everything was "back to normal" , a postcard arrived from cousin stephen, not from ankara or calcutta but from bournemouth - only two miles away. rabham, the hired man, was watching her from the french window, so she placed the postcard in the desk drawer and turned briskly toward cousin markton, who was lounging on the blue divan and smoking his eternal meerschaum. “cousin stephen will be arriving later today." "stephen, stephen. can't seem to place him. " "you would have met him at the wedding of cousin sophia and cousin tancred. tall, slender, bit of a bully, bit of a cad, more than a bit of a snob." "with one green eye and one violet? wore a monocle over the violet eye?" "the very same." "what's he been up to, eh? no good, most likely." markton took his pipe out of his mouth and studied it. "staying a while, is he?" "he doesn't say how long he intends to stay." "hmmm." markton twitched his shoulders and put his pipe back in his mouth. “he might stay a long time,” markton finally observed. “he might,” ethel agreed. “or he might only stay a day or so.” “he might do that also.” “it’s a bit of a mystery, isn’t it?” “i suppose it is.” “everything is a bit of a mystery, isn’t it, when you get right down to it.” ethel changed the subject. “the hired man is standing at the window again, staring at me.” “you mean rabham? oh, he’s quite harmless. besides, how do you know he is staring at you particularly?” “i know that he is. would you mind going outside and speaking to him?” “oh, very well.” markton sat up, carefully knocked the ashes out of his pipe , and placed the pipe beside the ashtray on the low table beside the blue divan. with a slight groan, markton pushed himself up off the divan and went outside and confronted rabham. ethel watched them through the window. after a couple of minutes, markton turned and reentered the house, followed by the hired man. “rabham has a little sing he would like to sing to us,” markton announced. “really?” ethel asked. “yes, go ahead, rabham.” rabham took a deep breath, and standing erect as a soldier on parade, commenced to sing in a loud clear voice. king richard went out riding a-riding out one day he cut off friar bacon’s head and hid it in the hay maid marian went out walking with a white dove in her hand then rode upon king richard’s back until they reached the holy land king richard drew his iron sword and slew the heathen turk maid marian drank the good king’s health and then went back to work. “that was splendid, rabham, quite splendid indeed,” markton announced when the song was finished. “thank you, sir.” “would you care for a slice of seed cake?” “thank you, that's very kind of you, sir.” “just don’t eat it all,” ethel admonished rabham. “we have to save some for cousin stephen.”