Love is a hallucination that makes an otherwise sane man believe he can set up housekeeping on a gas stove and a canary bird.
* * *
St. Paul Blues
When I’m dead bury me deep,
Bury me in the middle of St. Peter street;
Put my hands across my chest
And tell the girls I’ve gone to rest.
* * *
“What a curve,” said the garter, as it came around the last stretch.
* * *