Some carry, some are carried back –
some never finish that C flat soundtrack –
some feast on salsa, mezzoforte or piano –
intone a mighty bass, sing adequate soprano,
become the spouse who waits to nab you
or the guy who waits to pay the tab you
leave when you too often to the bar go.
Serendipity decrees the show
and every starring and subsidiary role.
Bowls will fill and bells will toll
at random or be rung,
inflammatory songs be sung
which land you in the slammer.
But whether you’re the nail or hammer,
bow politely or give lip
to who-or-what commands the ship
prestissimo or largo,
you’re the precious cargo.
you’re the precious cargo.
.
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