I watched the droopy, dreary kangaroos

Lose their air and dignity in Times Square

And their handlers, much perplexed,

Let the ropes slip from leathery hands

Already scythed with heart lines

That held out not much hope for sustenance

Or long lives lived in anything but grief

And the organ grinder shrugged,

Saying what did you expect?

Then, with his rhesus chattering, showing jagged teeth

As he clambered on the shoulder of the weatherman

The grinder played Cara Mia with a rather upbeat tempo

Singing it far, far better than Jay Black

And the few pennies dropped in his copper pot

Made the metal ring like church bells

But, I noticed, didn’t bring the tourists back

02/23/2003