I Haven't Written A Poem About Damon Runyon

I haven't written a poem about Damon Runyon

This, is an omission, so

Without his permission, (being impossible to obtain because

Nothing remains except, this figure in my head:

In short, he's dead)

 

I am thinking, as would he, eternally, In the present continuous, of mobsters

And their molls. Those Guys and Dolls, who are singing and dancing and murdering each other

With rampant inhibition - it being Prohibition - through

The highways and byways of New York

Through Speakeasys and Vaudeville,

Racetracks, playhouses and

This and That on Broadway:

Anyhow: here and there.

 

Cheesecake at Mindy's, out of town hucksters

Young ladies with high hopes,

Dealing them off the arm -

 

Safe-crackers. Pie-eaters, old ladies with attitude

Babies with Pop!

 

I

 

Love 'em all. New friends in a New World.

Delightfully, deliciously, sailing close to the wind

In a world of Romance and Danger. To which

I remain,

 

A stranger.

 

(Funny, where inspiration comes from.

 

Don't you think?

 

And now

 

I HAVE written a poem about Damon Runyon.)

Postscript:

I have also made the cheesecake. All the better for having ' a story that goes with it'. So this is for the cheesecake experts out there:

http://www.timesunion.com/living/article/Lost-recipe-for-legendary-cheesecake-found-3631242.php

:)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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