What’s Next? Eh, What?

“Remember,” said the superbly shammed-up, apparently wise father,
“When in doubt, brag about your ancestors.”
(Oh yeah, as the kid got older, to this direction he added his own codicil,
“Or whine about yesterday,” which, as he
might discover, is the same thing.)

 

Whilst sitting and sipping in this little hip bistro over in the Goatee Galaxy,
I overheard this snippet from an adjoining table, this one guy says,
“The reason ordinary people don’t like jazz
is that they don’t know what’s coming next.”
His buddy rubs his nose, looks at the window and says,
“You know Clyde, I just suddenly realized something about being alive.”

 

There is a time to be serious,
but it’s not right now.

 

One ole hairy grandfatherly type called all of his little grandnippers to gather round him,
and spoke to them thusly, “By the time most people think of something for the first
time on their own, (let’s say it all together), it’s too late.” (And the little ones were
so overcome by enlightenment and ennui that they instantaneously made the quantum
leap into post ancestorial cannibalism and had the ole man for last night’s dessert…
for which he was much less than noticeably grateful.)

 

After some pondering of the matter,
the elegant gentleman expressed himself in this verbal fashion,
“It may be a good thing that everyone can’t dance, or else these chairs
would go to waste!”

J.

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