XXII

And still I hear that jive trombonist's neverending riff
The sound of shattered music still rings loud with in my head
The band was called the Dixie Crabs and if, but only if
The time bomb hadn't blown too soon
Allowed the singer one more croon
Allowed him one more timeless tune before it struck him dead.
I saw my rival at the door; a hooligan, a mobster
Unnerved, I set the timebomb fifteen minutes in advance
I'm sure if that machinist hadn't looked so like a lobster
I'd have noticed my erratum still in time to leave the dance

I went cold as a clam!
I dived for the door!
I slithered and swam
I fell to the floor.
I squirmed like a newt
I crawled to my knees
I crowed like a coot
In a hive full of bees

And still I hear the throbob of the dancers dying deaths
The shards of music fill my ears with pitiful exclaim,
My friends who wetly decorate these walls I'll take to meths
And drink it till I fall quite prone
Until they leave me quite alone
Until at last I can atone for my eternal blame

What bigamist thrives?
What saboteur gains
For a man with two wives
What laughter remains?