i shouldn’t think so much about money
but it’s always at the back of my mind
how much did this cost?
how much have we lost?
where’s more of it that we can find?

i know that money isn’t the answer
but it consumes a lot of my thought
more dough would be nice
how high is the price?
should we have sold instead of bought?

 the earnings come in
and the payments go out
but the struggle seems to stay the same
splurging when there’s more
scrimping when there’s less
trying to remain in the game

i dream of having oodles of money
though those who do don’t seem more content
if i had it i’d share
at least what i could spare
before my better nature was spent

i do obsess the most about money
of anything that troubles my head
why is there this drought?
what if it runs out?
will it last until i’m dead?

i shouldn’t think so much about money
i know i’m kind of stuck in that rut
through the ebbs and flows
even when it grows
money is a pain in my butt

i can be bundled for tundra
thermals and parka
muffler and mukluks
thick socks and gloves
all of it warming
me to the bone
but i feel naked
without my phone

or dressed to the nines
for a party
tuxedo and cumberbund
cufflinks and studs
wearing the finest of threads
that i own
but i still feel naked
without my phone

my phone is so smart
we’re very well-matched
is there a way
i could have it attached
to me permanently
so i’ll never be heard
to say, “where did i leave it?”
or have to make efforts
to go and retrieve it?

i can wear business drag
suit it up sharply
like the best scalawag
trench coat and wing tips
button down collar
and four in hand tie
jacket and slacks
an executive clone
but i feel naked
without my phone

my mobile’s become
essential attire
more than accessory
or a toy to acquire
it keeps me connected
to e-mail and news
websites and widgets
and googleearth views
its camera is great
for catching a shot
or streamlining video
of some lancelot

oh and people
of course!
i almost forgot
talking or texting
friends or relations
is one of my hand-held’s
best applications

i can dress up
or i can dress down
ragged old jeans
or chic couture gown
but don’t take my picture
if i’m out alone
i feel naked
without my phone

http://www.playbill.com/news/article/156440-Sheryl-Kaller-Will-Direct-NYC-Reading-of-Bill-Russell-Janet-Hood-Musical-Unexpected-Joy

i’m pretty well-cultured
i like films which are indie
subtitled movies
even in hindi
classics of cinema
filled with erudite chatter
serious subjects
and challenging matter

i’ve seen most of rohmer
bergman, fellini
hitchcock, truffaut
and some pasolini

but then my good taste
will die in a flash
and i actively search
for films that are trash

togas and sandals
rude horror schlock
brit twit comedians
weepers i mock
monsters and gories
commercial crap
sticky sweet stories
oozing with sap

i love the ballet
the symphony thrills
i’m highly impressed
by checkov’s deft skills
i seek out shakespeare
wherever i can

then high-art ideals
will suddenly crash
and that’s when i go
straight for the trash

boulevard comedies
drag queens who pose
soap opera tackiness
and big glitzy shows
even the latest commercialized smash
sometimes i really crave trash

i keep excellent company
authors and thinkers
at the top of their game
doctors, attorneys
who’ve earned quite a name
for their work
for their minds
i seek out fine artists
and creative kinds
i dig conversation
that’s heady and brash
but sometimes i’d rather talk trash

with hookers and addicts
nutcases and bums
all of the kooks
with which this city hums
the outcasts
the losers
whose bets were too rash
here’s to the pleasure
of all kinds of trash