Screen Dump 631
Met a little boy named Billy Joe
And then I almost lost my mind . . .
- The Shirelles, Mama Said
Again, you are credited with holding things together . . .
Nightmarish, yes? . . .
The heat loosening the jaw . . .
Underwriters squawking about clowns
in huge blue suede shoes
doing drive-bys on knee scooters
soundtracked by The Shirelles' Mama Said
then slow-dancing to Dedicated To The One I Love . . .
The chemo gushes through your skinbag . . .
And now you're demanding what? . . . a recount? . . .
Taking stock of your hits and misses? . . .
A tad late, yes? . . .
Where have you been? . . .
Why the weathered hollow? . . .
The underestimation? . . .
The overestimation? . . .
The planting of trees? . . .
Theoretical, yes, but still the missing pieces . . .
I mean you've got this jabbering extra
who in the late innings is demanding a recount? . . .
But didn't you expect this would happen? . . .
I guess not . . . and that could be a good thing . . .
Clutching a ripped-out portrait of you
from five decades ago
leaning into a cue stick
for the eight ball in the corner pocket . . .
But the game was played out
and pocket protectors lined up to rue the day
you left with a Hi Ho Silver Away . . .
More about that later . . .
But now allow me to channel surf
with the rest of the plaintiffs slathered in grease . . .
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| Olympic Goldmedalist Gertrude Ederle (1926) |