Bailout Blues

I’m bankrupt and broken,
I’ve lost all my hair,
The merger fell through,
And I can’t find the stairs.

And my private Lear Jet,
It crashed in a swamp,
And my fourteenth wife Tina
Ran off with some chump

Who offered her roses
And a handful of toys
Then sold her to China
For eleven young boys.

Times have been darker;
Why, I recall a grim day
When my surfboard was drowned
And my maid ran away.

So I’m keeping my spirits
About me just now,
I sing in the shower,
And butcher a cow.

And the moon in the window
Looks lovely to me
The towers are lit,
The crow’s in the tree

And the sound of the sunrise
Due in an hour
Fills me with wonder
And summons the flowers

So I’m resting just easy
And don’t mind the noise
If you jump from the windows
You’ll miss the old joys.

Somewhere A Castle

Oh, the Jester bowed and played his flute
While the Court Magician described the route
Taken by the Prince in his new green carriage
Given to him on the promise of marriage,
While the Queen dissolved in a pool of tears
For the disgrace she’d suffered all these years.

And somewhere the King had forgotten his crown,
When from the Heavens, looking down,
God withdrew his formal offer,
And the Gold and Coins from the royal coffers
Were stored in banks with stony faces
And empty towers and other grim places,

Until the King relinquished his right to decree,
And left it there for you and me,
For the candy bar kids with unread letters
Whistle from rooftops for something better
As somewhere a castle for a sovereign soul to choose,
Where whatever you give you gain, and whatever you
Take you loose.

Corporate Blues

I’ve scratched myself raw
and sold all my spreadsheets
of the business I started
last June when I could speak

Of certain uncertainties I
left for the morning,
and countless defenses
given as warning

For the collapse soon to come
of some fine institutions
that sold all their stocks
to receive restitutions

for all the cold suffering
they shared with the maid
who washed their detergent
and polished their shades

It’s fine to assume
You know that what’s what
And you belong in the game
And you’ll never be cut

But the Finance co-chairman
Has sold all his ties
To a handsome sub-contractor
Who coughs when he lies

And the Executive Branch
Is in disarray
A mole has revealed
The price that they’ll pay

For personal privileges
Like handshakes and kisses
And lasting impressions
For the kids and the Mrs.

So I quit that fine boardroom
I’d had it with gin
My shoes were too tight
And I never fit in

I was given to outbreaks
Of gossip and hate—
And I couldn’t forgive
What they took from my plate

So I bid them farewell—
I gave back my hat
Returned all my tie-pins
And said, “Well that’s that.”

And I headed for Egypt
Where I heard it was warm
And the girls all smile sweetly
If you sound the alarm

But the mullahs were bearded
I preferred a clean shave
And my sandals were sorry
They couldn’t be saved

So I headed for Paris
Where the summers are wet
And the cafes are filled
With people I’ve met

And I talked ‘til the morning
With poets in drag
And slept through the midnight
‘cause I was half in the bag.

Emily Blue

Little Emily Blue,
Who stood a bit below four-foot two,
Who sang when she was wet,
And kept her dolls in the fireplace flue;
Who disliked rice and sometimes jam,
Who cried, “No fair!” if you held her hand,
Sailed for France with the Queen of Spain,
By way of Cape Horn with her spotted Great Dane—
Arrived unfed and demanded tea,
Was given pizza and clapped with glee,
Then went to bed stark naked,
Warmed by the sunset and thoughts of you and me.