Sunday, March 17, 2019

The Whole Banana Skin Calamity

He’d come to claim he knew
The Wisdom Game, the name,
the mercies and the dividends of
which he knew could at his sensitive
direction lend an unexampled scheme
of glory to the World re: how to travel on
and to and through the silver dream of
living with a minimum of angsty fuss.
He’d saved his money, bought a bus
and had it painted green and gold
and red and mauve and cobalt blue,
devised a hat upon which perched
a two-beaked bird whose face he’d
made the icon of the Third Benign
Elective One to whom all countesses
poured out their indiscretions as he lay
in waiting for the needy throngs to say just
how to right their wrongs. He could go on
like this for all eternity and then, right
after when, begin the whole banana
skin calamity again, again, again.

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