Ain't no breatthrough for a working man.
You just scuffle and make do.
Get
old and die. Seedy and stove-up.
Eat out and go to the movies.
For the air-conditioning.
Go
to the mall.
For the ambience. Buy a pop-up camper
and see the USA in your
Chevy mini-van.
Teddy Kennedy died. He wrote and asked the pope
to pray for
him. President Obama hand-carried the letter.
His Holiness said he would mention
him. Include him?
I wrote my own obituary.
He was a damned poetical failure,
And a damned irascible crank,
But say this for the poor, sad son of a bitch:
He wrote as hard as he drank.
Larry said I led the way, and I didn't lose
my nerve or my heart. I did
the best I could
with what I had. It wasn't enough but it was
100%.