February: Year-day 38

                                 
                                         
February: Year-day 38    
                                
A fair sky, and whistlings out of the south.
Tomorrow, Milwaukee perhaps, and Rick
and Laurel: music: his organ, her mouth:
throaty, electric: rock with rainbow quick.

And the bastards, and the bitches, the ladies,
the gentlemen/ will listen and enjoy
as their ears are turned in the Leaded Shade ease
that evening that duo work for, employ.

And the computer-controlled universe
we may quite soon see sloshing in the banks
will leave small room for compelled excuses.

All we imagine/ we'd better rehearse
if we're ever to hear the proper thanks
for the worlds we make and their varied uses.
                                                 
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