From
ChRONS AND MAXIMS

* * *

Now here are those who're learning in the morning,
Their cases stuffed with pencils, books and papers,
Their sleepy heads are stuffed with clever brains.
And here are those who rather works at dawn,
Filled with their own invaluable meaning
For socium, the state and dear wife.
Here I go down, in beret, with guitar,
Wishing to be the one of those not many,
Who just survive while standing on their ears.
And on the very bridge, unseen, he dances,
The teacher of the very foreign tongues.
Around him I see the crooks are gathering,
And nothing they can tell about him,
And, watching his most vanton transpositions,
I go to have eleventh cup of coffee,
And, by the way, what is it all to me?..

© Katy J. Trend