DISTRESSFULLY aware, he was employed
In dangling clumsy legs into the void,
But the melancholy whistles
Of the ukulele wavered
And a tear-drop semiquavered
From the music, and the thistles
Were extracted
And his feet
Were attracted
By the fleet,
Neat notes ...
Those tightly-fitting pairs of gloves that dance
And beam like a Belasco star
On Broadway, where the houses all advance
To show how very small we are.
And the liquid music throbs
Jujubes,
Crystal-sparkling thoughts in gobs
And cubes—
Flicker-snicker as a scintillating blind
In the breeze,
To appease
The famished Coney Island of the mind.