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And That's Ok

and some days sitting, looking out of the
open door, to the tropical sunlit yard, 
feels like being in a Goddam tomb;
but when the long-haired girls walk by 
and smile that smile, everything looks 
better and that's OK and life looks brighter

and I wake up a little more and dream of 
honey and a hot M16, and I make coffee 
on the black civil-rights stove, and Martin 
Luther King shouts out, "I have a dream," 
and thats OK and alright, and life looks brighter 

and the house across the way is decorated in 
shame and the hookers hum dull tunes, and 
play on their Gameboys, and discuss Columbia 
and their vulvas, and the kids they never had, 
but that's OK and alright, and life looks brighter

and the stealing monkeys come in and out, and 
the furious, curious, crucified neighbours, come in
for sugar, or a loan, or to borrow a dream, or ask 
for my phone; and that's OK and alright, and life 
looks brighter

and the sharp cruddy, thud, thud, thud, of music 
from the disco hall, makes the bad girls dance and 
the boys smoke dope, and the priest who wants a 
wife and a rest from the bible, gets down and makes
his move; and that's OK and that's alright and life 
looks brighter.

and the wheels of the trucks kick up dust and leave 
their travelled, oily hopes behind, and maiden aunts 
with pension plans, and questions about sex, and fruit 
and empty wombs, busy along; and that's OK and that's
alright, and life looks brighter

and the swaying palms and decaying, delaying coconut 
farms, with their chop, chop, chop and howdy-doody 
charms, get under your skin; like olive oil and turtle soup, 
and beaches with perky, querky, pleasant staff; 
but their Ok; and mean no harm, and that's OK and alright 
and life looks brighter

and an old man once said in the heat of a dense, humid,
lazy, fishing day; "don't give a damn, it's OK and it's alright,"...
and life looks brighter.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things