When in the course of time, man bends
To make himself a means out of an ends
And crocodiles he seldom sends
to watch out for his bovine friends,
He is a mute, and sadly shaven
A monkey subtle and quite the craven
Counting oddly, ane to saven,
Toothy remnants of "The Raven;"
In time the beast becomes the best
Alarming in Aladdin's vest
A tale of past from the west
A tub of jewels from Falcon Crest
A useless list! A footman weary
Spitting blood on gray and dreary
Evenings full of pregnant, teary
clouds and shining lights so cheery
Reflect in glistening pools of black
Wanting natural sunshine back
Finding cards in one tall stack
Put there by a drowsy hack
Cardsharp cutting corners, cost
On false editions of Robert Frost
Woodsy poem, double-crossed
By slick black covers, gold embossed
The names of streets in downtown's maze
(Taking time, like solar rays,
To reach the suburbs, in their laze,
perceptions warped, dolorous haze)
The night is live, the air is damp
The ambience's impressive stamp
Comes clearly from the endless tramp
Of adjectives and verbs in vamp.
Shysters, bellhops, fruit, and shelves
Arrange in awful lines of twelves
Like Madeline without the elves
They cluster, and enjoy themselves.