as their lamps darken
the wise old ones know nothing
will be right again
You are whom you eat:
chef, ingredients and spoon
in electric soup.
remember to tell
your grandchildren how it felt
to have a country
The television
no longer entertains me.
Who broke our bargain?
america this
violence defaces your past
and damns your future
Thelonious Monk
catches sounds as they rain down
through his deft fingers
Q. What was Bob Dylan doing at the French bakery?
A. Nosh, nosh, noshing on petit fours.
You're so prickle-y
Just like Travis Bickle-y
If you want a pickle
Go and pick it from the pickle tree
Pal
Some splash along its edge
More loiter on the beach
The waves which beckon all
Are tasted not by each
your stupidity
stupefies, your heartlessness
defies compassion
Q. How do Tevye's descendants find their way around town?
A. "Mapmaker, mapmaker, make me a map. Draw a blue line to the place that I tap."
radishes carrots
a harvest is my reward
not my achievement
inauguration day for one
incarceration day for all
"Trochee" is a trochee
"Iamb" is one also
You who have not
A new story to tell -
Tell an old story
Tell an old story well
He is almond oil.
An extra dram makes the dish
impalatable.
Mud becomes lotus
She drinks water and sunlight
Lotus becomes bird
Q. How do orchestras stay warm in summer without air conditioning?
A. They have many Bach's fans.
Q. How many?
A. Too many to Liszt.
Spit and rage, yet know
what one man earned by holding
fast to force of won't.
Hippopotamus Rex