John-Ward Leighton

ALL MY BEST LINES HAVE BEEN WASTED

Photo ©Copyright by John-Ward Leighton
The Street Singer

The man with the axe

A blond gazelle of a woman

Things that are bad for your brain

Drugs-R-Us centralThe street singer sings Gordon Lightfoot
a cold breeze blows off the harbour
and his guitar rings true.
Time passes and the troubadour
sings the opening credits
to joy.
The tension is maintained
because the man with the axe
always lurks in the shadows.
The sun comes out from behind the clouds
and the spring pollen gets up my nose
and I sneeze.
A blond gazelle of a woman passes
and her enigmatic smile
looks into my eyes
and wins my heart.
The tourists gather,
cameras poised,
awaiting the great non event
of the steam clock tooting the hour.
Leonard on the sound track
as I remember the midnight guru
saying coffee was bad for the brain
because his brain scans
which kill millions of brain cells
and keeps killing them
for a half life of twenty thousand years
for the rest of your life
proves it.
I think I will take the coffee
‘cause who needs a brain
that glows in the dark.
The tourists explode in all directions
like a covey of grouse scarred up by your dog
on the last toot of the hour.
Rushing their busy little butts
onto the bus
to see the next whatever
they must
perhaps the baby whale
now that would be a tale.
My coffee is all gone
and my piece of cake is all tasted
when I realize
that for now
all my best lines have been wasted.