Yellow-lit Budweiser signs over oaken bars, I've seen everything-the bartender handing me change of $10, I stared at him amiably eyes thru an obvious Adamic beard- with Montana musicians homeless in Manhattan, teenage curly hair themselves-we sat at the antique booth & gossiped, Madame Grady's literary salon a curious value in New York- If I had my way I'd cut off your hair and send you to Vietnam- Bless you then I replied to a hatted thin citizen hurrying to the barroom door upon wet dark Amsterdam Avenue decades later- And if I couldn't do that I'd cut your throat he snarled farewell, and "Bless you sir" I added as he went to his fate in the rain, dapper Irishman. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BIRTHNIGHT: TO F by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE PITY OF IT by THOMAS HARDY THE PHILOSOPHER by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY POLLY BE-EN UPZIDES WI' TOM by WILLIAM BARNES THE HEALERS by LAURENCE BINYON AFTER HARVEST by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |