If I come back a dog I'll bark

 

If I come back a dog I'll bark

at foolish pigeons in the park

But if a cat is Vishnu's will,

I'll sit upon a windowsill.

A spider, now, might be a gas --

but probably I'll be an ass . . . 

*********************************

I'm of that ancient order that got letters in the mail.

A postcard from the tropics did intrigue me without fail.

A blurry shot so overblown the colors ran amok.

I've never got an email yet that left me thunderstruck.

Eroded to a nubbin of its former zip and glory,

the postcard's now a relic, positively dinosaury.

***********************

The wind of a book fills your sails, matey.

It takes you to lands both enchanted and fatey.

Feel that firm heft and the gravitas, lubber.

Then go to your mess of fried eel and whale blubber.

**************************

I have dreamed of automats;

eating with fedora hats.

Turning knobs and using nickels

for real pie and maybe pickles.

But in the Midwest as a lad

the White Castle was all I had