My fists in my torn pockets, off I went,
My tattered jacket turned ideal. Sweet Muse!
I wandered under the sky, obedient,
Dreaming of lovers’ starlit rendezvous.
My only pants had a huge hole as well.
A daydreaming Tom Thumb, as I passed by
I chimed out strings of rhymes. And my hotel
Was the Big Dipper. My stars up in the sky
Rustled softly, and I’d admire, those fine
September evenings roadside, the melody,
The dew-drops on my brow a potent wine;
There, rhyming in that shadow fantasy,
I plucked frayed shoestrings with a lyrist’s art,
One foot held, ragged, up close to my heart.