a poem on a pun

a poem on a pun is together than it seems

like a wet tshirt on a fat man bursting at it’s seams

the pun must be nifty and the pun must be crisp

if you dont get the pun you pretend it is stiff

it must makes sense punning is not a joke

a joke cannot be a pun and its not every thing you just spun

we play on words and the double meanings between the lines

we write on ether and hide our whines

all the money you offer to me

all the money you offer to me today paisan

all the money with the deals with double or nothing

is not worth a single night’s sleep or a single day’s rest

is not worth a pretty picture I see for a museum for free


all the money in the world cant buy you my dreams and your innocence back

from where we left them in the pawn shop as we hustled for what we thought was glory and money


all the money in the world can’t buy us back our tears and their  hopes and those fears

which we  spilled and we shed and  we dropped on the way to the top of the hill


where we  sit, you and I , with your rifle and my  sights,  and your patience and my skill

waiting for one last job and one more kill







In this city ( a jazz song)

there is a pain in my arm , in my chest, in my heart

I am waiting for the countdown to begin, the end to start

the stroke to paralyze my eyes and my love

the arrest that stops the clock given by heaven above

I have lived and I have loved and I have sinned in this town

Perhaps I should live here forever six feet under the ground

Perhaps my ghost shall roam these streets if but at night

For darling even after death I will be in love all right

These streets are friendly and full of memories

Of all the times we sat down and talked and broke bread and tea

And as my body doubles up in a cough again

My legs throb with twitching of the pain

I cannot help but look above and thank the Lord above

for only He could think of a sendoff with such love

and then I pause for its dangerous where I tread

and walk back slowly with my anger in retreat

for how you promised and how you let go of me

for how you sold me under the big green tree

for how many times I chased you around the mulberry

and how many lives does this cat have in this city