Minstrel In The Gallery
The minstrel in the gallerylooked down upon the smiling faces.He met the gazes observed the spacesbetween the old men's cackle.He brewed a song of love and hatred,oblique suggestions and he waited.He polarized the pumpkin-eaters,static-humming panel-beaters,freshly day-glow'd factory cheaters(salaried and collar-scrubbing.)He titillated men-of-actionbelly warming, hands still rubbingon the parts they never mention.He pacified the nappy-suffering, infant-bleating,one-line jokers, TV documentary makers(overfed and undertakers.)Sunday paper backgammon playersfamily-scarred and women-haters.Then he called the band down to the stageand he looked at all the friends he'd made.
The minstrel in the gallerylooked down upon the smiling faces.He met the gazes observed the spacesin between the old men's cackle.He brewed a song of love and hatred,oblique suggestions and he waited.He polarized the pumpkin-eaters,static-humming panel-beaters,
The minstrel in the gallerylooked down on the rabbit-run.And threw away his looking-glass -saw his face in everyone.
He titillated men-of-actionbelly warming, hands still rubbingon the parts they never mention.(salaried and collar-scrubbing.)
He pacified the nappy-suffering, infant-bleating,one-line jokers, TV documentary makers(overfed and undertakers.)Sunday paper backgammon playersfamily-scarred and women-haters.Then he called the band down to the stageand he looked at all the friends he'd made.
The minstrel in the gallerylooked down on the rabbit-run.And threw away his looking-glass -and saw his face in everyone.
The minstrel in the gallerylooked down upon the smiling faces.He met the gazes...The minstrel in the gallery