If wishes were horses

You too could own a pogo stick with a supercharged grip, And lose your teeth in a chew-chew bon bon.

The sky moves in platinum and black velvet stripes, Carnival street is alive with the pandemonium

of Lake Ville and Deep Well's leading citizens.

And the Arkansas traveler waits patiently behind the ropes While "In The Flesh" is led through the portals by his horn rimsWho else can own a French poodle with ermine ear muffs?

When the buildings have crumbled

And the boulevard disintegrates into the melting pot of neon bars, You may still see the man walking the telephone wire on his head.

Success in pasteboard boxes,

And too many angles on the moon.

Just try and see through the bottom side of a drinking glass.

Hi-ho to the palm tree, and the "For Sale" sign,

The drifter, and the mad man with the key chain-

On to the cigar bands and the hop scotch patterns at high noon.

anele

13