My Least Favorite Things

I recently had the good fortune to participate in a masterclass sponsored the Onondaga County Public Library and CNYJazz.  (Video to be posted here eventually.)  Encouraged by Larry L and a others who enjoyed my performance of "Dreams of a Lovestruck Biologist", I'm learning how to accompany myself on the guitar.  Here's a progress report: a rough recording of a song from
 "The Sound of Mortars".

CLICK HERE for my SOUNDCLOUD  Page

"The Sound of Mortars"  is set in war-time Afghanistan.  Is there any other time in Afghanistan? It's about a beautiful double-agent,  "Madeeja" (played by Christiana Amanpour), and a lovable but bungling band of seven dwarf terrorists, who follow her everywhere.  Other songs include: The Sound of Mortars (Madeeja), How Do You Solve a Problem like Korea and Climb Every Mountain (both sung by Mother Hillary). and Invaded Twice (Ain't it nice), sung by Captain Von Laden,  joined by Madeeja and the boys, just before they escape the military occupation of their beloved, pulverized homeland.

The story is fiction, of course, based on fact that is reminiscent of earlier fiction based on earlier fact. The name of the war may be different, but the story's the same. Who knows? The fiction/fact cycle may even go back, war by war, to the Peloponnesian War, and the futile attempt by Sisyphus to escape over the mountains with his very large pet rock.  

SON of MUSIC MAN

a comically tragic grand opera  

 Sung throughout, just like Phantom of the Opera (well, sort of). 

ADD Tangent:  This concept might make a fun party game.  Go around the room, one line per person, creating a story with song lyrics.

CAST of CHARACTERS:

Gary Indiana (Gary Indiana) -- that obnoxious carrot-top kid from The Music Man, secret love-child of Robert Preston and Ethel Merman. Gary is now 25 years-old and sings every word that comes out of that obnoxious Hoosier-mouth of his. He should ask his doctor if Lyrica is right for him.

Annie Warbucks -- now 22 years old, no longer little nor an orphan, but still an obnoxious (yet lovable) redhead, who has the same lyrical disorder as Gary Indiana (Gary Indiana). 

The Narrator -- equally obnoxious and, alas, stricken with a terminal  earworm, the entire contents of his brain having been displaced by song lyrics that won't go away until he reformats his hard-drive.  Rightly played by the playwright, of course, except when he's retching due to his own libretto, when MaryLou covers for him.

ACT ONE (Singular Sensation)

Narrator -- How shall I begin to tell the story? Talk about the boy? Talk about the girl?  Na na NAH nah ... I write the songs!  When a body meets a body, anything can happen.  Who knows? Boy-oh, Boy-oh! Something's happenin' here!  Lordy, Lord I'm tellin' you. 

Gary -- Monday, Monday! All alone am I.  I'm Mr. Blue (wah oo wah ooo). I ain't got nobody.  I've looked at clouds and I think it's gonna rain today.
Narrator -- But no one heard at all, not even a chair.

Gary -- Well these boots are made for walkin'.  Gotta walk that lonesome valley ... singin', singin' in the rain. I walk alone.  All by myself.  Strollin down the aven-oo, the Boulevard of Broken Dreams, Lonely Street ...
Narrator -- Over, over and over ... but no one heard at all.  Here she comes ... pretty woman, walkin' down the street. 

Annie -- I didn't sleep a wink last night.  I've been cryin'.  (Wah oo wah ooo.) Tears on my pillow. So I say to myself, don't let the sun catch you cryin'. Oh, No!
Narrator -- It's raining! It's pouring! The sun ain't gonna shine anymore!

Gary -- Well, I'm a-walkin'.  I'm a travelin' man.  Fal-da-ree, Fal-da-rah ... 

Annie --  Who's that man, just a-walkin' down the street? He knows not where he's going to. He's just a man. Oh, No! Stop (in the name of love).

Gary -- Who am I? Who am I?

Annie -- Gary Indiana! Gary Indiana! You don't remember me, but I remember you. Try to remember. Back in the good ol' days. We were young, and didn't have a care. 
Narrator -- He went away, but now he's ba-ack. Look out, look out, look out, look out. He's no good for you, foolish little girl.  
Annie -- Listen! Do you want know a secret? Gary Indiana (Gary Indiana.) I wanna marry you ... and we're gonna get married.

Gary -- In the year 2525.  When Jupiter aligns with Mars. 

Annie -- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Gary -- It's not time to make a change. Let's spend the night together.

Annie -- R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Will you still love me tomorrow? 

Gary -- E-I-E-I-O.  Got a rocket in my pocket.

Narrator -- Boy-oh, boy-oh!  [deleted -- title and lyrics from a Woody Guthrie song recorded by the Kingston Trio ... and a line from "I Am Woman"].

Annie -- Ah! Sweet mystery of life!
Narrator -- Let's go out to the lobby.
________________________________________________________________________________
ACT TWO (Turtle-Doves)

Annie -- We're goin' to the chapel. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Indiana wants me and we're gonna get married.

Gary -- Nah, nah, NAH, nah. Never in a million years.

Annie -- Here we are! Two turtledoves -- and baby makes three.

Gary -- Kids? We've got trouble, right here. Kids?

Annie -- What's the matter with kids?

Gary -- Nah, nah, NAH, nah.  There, I've said it again. Hey, hey hey, Goodbye!

Annie -- Hey hey hey?  Goodbye?

Gary -- Sing for me, softly, as I leave you. It's time to move on. See you in September (in the year 3535).

Annie -- I'll see you in my dreams. I will always love you-oo-ooo.

Narrator -- But no one heard at all ... not even a ch... ch...  chh....

arrrgh! eccchhh!  Hello, MaryLou!  I want you, I need you! Help me if you can.

 Don't say No, it's THE END

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

THE MAN OF LA MAFIA (Not La Mancha) Complete Script with Stage Directions

The Attention Deficit Production Compan
presents
The MAN of La MAFIA
A 'Long-Running' (12 minutes) Musical by Dr Speedbump
With apologies to D. Wasserman, J. Darien, M. Lee and Cervantes

LAS VEGAS, sometime in the 1970s

CHARACTERS:

• Don Coyote (Peter's Brother) -- our narrator, as explained vaguely below.
• Donaldo Bonano, aka Don Banana -- a devote pacifist born into a Crime Family.
• Pancho Sanza -- Don Banana’s “special friend”.
• Annette Funicello -- a Las Vegas showgirl, formerly a perky Mouseketeer and beach-party bikini babe who danced like a surfboard.
  
• (just) Donovan -- a prisoner, formerly a singer (more or less), whose only remaining name was all but forgotten by the 1970s. Aging hippies have reported recent sightings, probably flashback hallucinations.
  
• Peter and Gordon -- petty thieves, formerly nerdy recording artists like Chad and Jeremy, but that was yesterday, and ... well, you know.
  
• The entire Bonano and Gamblino Families -- hard-working, highly motivated refugees from New Jersey; neighbors who now run competitive family businesses in Las Vegas.
  

[Note from the Playwright: This is a play within a play: a theatrical gimmick that must be as old as Euripedes. Just you wait! 'Death of a Cellphone', a work in progress by The Attention Deficit Production Compan, will have 9 or 10 levels. It's a story about a play within a play within a play within a play within a play within a play within a play within a play within a play. Don't miss it; or I'll have to write a sequel that recaps the story.]

PRELUDE
The stage is bare. The narrator, thankfully, is not.
[This is a soliloquy by some guy who we think is Peter Coyote's brother, Don. He looks inexplicably like our hero, Don Bonano, and sounds just like Peter Coyote impersonating Rod Serling.]

DON COYOTE

May I set the stage? I shall impersonate a man. Come into my website and see him! His name, Rod Serling ... er, I mean Donaldo Bonano … a meek and gentle man who by some cruel quirk of fate was born into the Mafia (which doesn’t really exist, you know). As he comes of age, the impossible mission of this devote pacifist and certified Conscientious Objector is to sally forth into the world of organized crime and avoid conflict at all costs. Sadly, everyone in both Families, including Don Bonano himself, mistakes his peace-loving demeanor for cowardice.
[Orchestra now plays something heroic and Italian, like 'Fratelli d'Italia' (the wrong name for the Italian National Anthem, 'Inno di Mameli') -- or 'The Theme From Rocky' (the wrong name for 'Gonna Fly Now').]
No one recognizes the true courage needed for Don to deny his birthright and live a life of non-violence within the Bonano Crime Family. Uniamoci, amiamoci. Siam pronti alla morte. (Look it up; or ask your grandmother.) He has been dubbed ‘Don Yellow a la Banana’. We shall call him simply ‘Don Banana'. Observe what happens as he drives his black 1961 Cadillac 'station wagon' down the Strip in Las Vegas -- as he enters ... the ‘Nightlife Zone’.
[doo do doo do, doo do doo do.]

ACT I

SCENE 1 -- THE STRIP IN LAS VEGAS [Weren't you paying attention?]
[Note to Set Designer: a stupid, neon, animated 30-foot cowboy is mandatory -- or the audience might think we’re still in Atlantic City.]

DON BANANA: (singing to the tune of ‘I, Don Quixote’)

Hear me now, oh thou bleak
and most criminal world,
Thou art dark and as scary can be.
One young man,
with his blonde hair all prettily curled,
now hurls down his luncheon on thee.
[Cymbal crash and music suddenly gets louder and faster]
I’m no Don Corleone, though spawned by a mobster,
if danger should call I will hide.
[Unnecessary Note: Orchestra crescendo to fortissimo, which really goes without saying because they can’t help themselves anyway.]
The woodwinds and trombones
will blow me right over.
My liver is lilied inside.
Liver is lilied inside.
All through this story, I hide!

PANCHO (joining in song):

I’m Pancho.
No, I’m not macho.
My life’s a disaster, end to end.
I’m scared of … my own shadow.
I’m a coward! So's my friend!

[Don and Pancho get into the black Cadillac station wagon and speed away as if being chased.]
[Note to Prop Department: This is an opportunity to go overboard with a totally superfluous full-size vehicle appearing on stage for all of 3 seconds, like in Grease and Miss Saigon.]

SCENE 2
The Boomer Room, a nostalgic nightclub at Mickey's Palace, one of the Gamblino's casinos (or is it 'casini' ?).

The room is full of mobsters with their girlfriends (while their wives are filming a reality-TV show, which later flops like Grandma's what's-its -- oh yeah, 'pancakes' -- because this is the '70s and the TV audience isn't yet sophisticated enough to appreciate reality shows.)

The entertainers in the Boomer Room are dressed as Mouseketeers.
[Yes, 'Mouseketeers', not 'Musketeers'. You're thinking of a suspiciously similar Broadway musical that appears to be a rip-off of this one. Those producers have an impossible dream, alright. Their show will surely fold in a week. Then I'll promptly sue the proverbial pantaloons off that pathetic, penny-pinching pair of pompous, pea-brained, purloining poachers to pilfer whatever paltry pecuniary proceeds their pitifully plagiarized play has perchance produced. Probably a pile of pennies! Please pray for this perennial pauper -- I'm a perpetually, painfully poor playwright and I'm profoundly peeved! Pfooee! ... ... ... But I digress.]

DON BANANA
[enters the room and spots one showgirl who looks oddly familiar]
Sweet Lady ... fair virgin ... [He averts his eyes worshipfully]
I dare not gaze full on your freckled countenance, lest I be blinded by beauty ... so I'll stare at your boobs instead. But I implore you -- say your name, just once. I know it's not 'Doreen', although she had heaps of talent, too.

ANNETTE
[with a bouncy voice and a snappy salute]
Annette!

DON BANANA
My Lady! I will sing about you to the tune of 'Dulcinea', from a musical that's suspiciously similar to the one we're performing now. Maestro, please ...

I have seen you on TV
You are Annette Funicello
and for you I have lust in my heart.
As you out-grew your tee-
shirt, the breath of Don Yellow
would stop and this gasping would start.
Gulping air! Gulping Air!
I've got asthma and I'm always gulping air!
[He points at her tee-shirt.]
At your name I always stare
through fogged-up glasses.
Gulping air! Gulping air!

ANNETTE [sings slowly in response to Don B's poignant love song.]
Now it's time to say goodbye to all our company ...[She turns her back on Don and exits poco a poco, still singing the Rickey Rat ... er, I mean, the Mickey Mouse Club Farewell Theme.]

INTERMISSION
LETS KEEP THIS UNDER 5 MINUTES, SHALL WE?
Everybody wants to get out of here as soon as possible.
Sorry, Ladies ... no time to stand in line.
(see "At The Theatre" for some sympathy)

ACT II

SCENE 3
A 5-star federal prison resort in Scottsdale, AZ, where the guests ... &nbspI mean, inmates ... are trying to impress one another with their crime stories.

DON COYOTE impersonating ROD SERLING portraying DON BANANA

I'm not guilty, you know. I'm no criminal -- I don't even rip the tags off new pillows. I won a free cheeseburger at Burger Whop, and I reported it on my income tax! I was framed by an imposter. No, not the narrator -- although he is a phony. Wait! I'm the narrator, impersonating ... oh, you know. Gordon framed me ... I feel like a knight in rusty armor in a world without love. I don't want to see him again. He then begins this song, which is suspiciously reminiscent of 'Golden Helmet of Mambrino'.

Gordon held up a casino
Up in Reno, not LV.
For his crime now,
I'm doing time, now,
in this penitentiary

DONOVAN [who was convicted of drug charges -- Surprise! -- back in the '60s. Now singing, more or less, to the tune of 'I can hear the cuckoo singing in the cuckooberry tree'.]

Oh, they call this fellow yellow
and they do so quite rightly

CHORUS of INMATES:
Quite rightly!

PETER
[No, not Don Coyote's brother. Rather, Gordon's former partner.]

If that's really what got held up,
it pissed off The Family.

DON BANANA [woefully, in the original tune]

Gordon held up that casino
but Gamblino's after me...

SCENE 4 -- Back at Mickey's Palace

ANNETTE
[Now wearing not much more than her sequined mouse-ears and holding a peacock feather.] [Note to Costume Dept: For the matinee, a bikini is recommended, preferably with two monograms: 'Ann' and 'ette' -- or, if necessary, 'A' and 'F', depending on how much talent the actress has.]
Why do you do these stupid things?
DON BANANA
What things?
ANNETTE
These cowardly ... the things you do.
DON BANANA
I hope to add some measure of grace to the world of organized crime.
ANNETTE
You're going to take such a beating.
DON BANANA
Whether I'm respected or not doesn't matter.
[awkward silence]
You're hot, Annette, but no one ever accused you of being bright.
You're supposed to say "What does?" so that I can respond,
"Only that I follow the quest and avoid conflicts at all costs."
ANNETTE
[spits loudly, into her microphone, or over the orchestra pit into the audience]
That for your quest!
[turns, marches away, stops, turns back -- while the music plays:
BUMP! Bump, Bump, Bump!]

CHORUS
Come along and sing a song and join The Family ...

ANNETTE
What does that mean ... 'quest'?

DON BANANA
[Note: If you don't know the tune of this one, I'm surprised you made it this far. Don't you have something better to do?]
It is the mission of each true Conscientious Objector... No, his privilege! ...

To scream, the awesomest scream,
To hide, from the smallest of foes,
To leave, with the ten grand I 'borrowed',
To run, like the other C-Os.

I might - have the most awful song
to sing, as I'm chased long and far.
And my friend has his head out the window,
to retch on my beautiful car.

This is my quest,
to flee like Johnny Guitar,
no matter how hopeless --
We'll be feathered and tarred.

Too frightened to fight,
I bet there are laws
for protecting the timid and meek,
who keep shitting their drawers.

And I know, if I'll only be true
To this glorious Quest,
That my heart, will be spotless and pure,
[slower, pulsed]
when it's torn from my chest.

[He reaches in his shirt and pretends to throw his heart to the floor]
[Note to Prop Dept: Save the turkey giblets for the Epilogue -- to hold off the PETA-people until the end of the play. They are already complaining about Annette's peacock feather and phony mouse ears. If they rush the stage, lure them away with bananas.]

[Pancho is still retching -- and now Annette and some of the musicians are, too. God help what's left of the audience. When the retching subsides, Don Banana finishes his song with this anti-climactic verse.]

The mob world -- will not ever forgive
that I ran, and then jumped in my car
And drove, not as fast as the others,
who I stuck with the tab at the bar.

Yada yada yada ...

[ I forgot to write a Coda. Make something up, as long as it ends with:]
To scream, the awesomest scream!
[Don nervously looks over his shoulder and runs off the stage, screaming.] Aiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...

EPILOGUE

[Don Banana is lying motionless on the bare stage. It is assumed that he has been caught and killed, but we don't yet know by whom. Annette is kneeling over our fallen, heart-wrenched hero like Maria in West Side Story, except that we won't let her sing. In the unlikely event that Casting found a hottie who actually can act, Annette will show mixed emotions. She'll be in tears, as phony as those mouse-ears and who-know-what-else, while she calmly places her bloody peacock feather over Don's gentle, peaceful, courageous, non-violent, dead face. In her other hand, Annette clutches some really messy turkey giblets, assuming that none of the stage hands had them for lunch, again -- and she reveals a sly grin to the audience.]

AUDIENCE [ideally, a collective gasp; but a collective gag will do.]

PANCHO [Silhouetted against the curtain to magnify the shadow of his mouse ears]

Una bella ragazza italiana con le lentiggini?

I never did trust that bitch!
An Italian girl with freckles!
Ha!

FADE TO BLACK
[as orchestra with several concertinas (or is it concertine) play 'Funiculì, funiculà' like a funeral dirge, largo con fuego (a slow burn).]

Note to Director:
It's doubtful that there will be any applause during the curtain 'calls'.
You can expect the remnants of the audience will likely sit silently aghast,
mouths ajar -- unless they're still retching, of course.

Order of Curtain Calls:

• Mobsters & Mouseketeers/Showgirls
• Donovan & Peter (They motion as if Gordon is coming out, but he didn't actually appear in the play, you know. The three of them romp together hand-in-hand-in-hand around the stage . No, sorry, that was yesterday ... with those nerdy understudies.)
  
• Annette (misshaping one of her monogrammed souvenir tee-shirts, which will be available in the lobby for $39.95. Size small, only. Prostheses sold separately.)
• Pancho (who stole the show, of course), carrying an armful of souvenir mouse-ears (also $39.95, $59.95 for the ones with sequins).
• Don Bonano (with a bunch of autographed bananas, also for sale.)
• Last, exuberantly running to center stage, crying with joy, arms spread wide and phony bouquet in hand, Don Coyote, the narrator who inexplicably looks like Don Banana (who, to the surprise of the other cast members, is still on stage) and sounds like Peter Coyote impersonating Rod Serling for no apparent reason.
  

FINE

PHOTO CREDITS: " The Strip", by V. J. Lucid 1991; all others on loan, courtesy of somebody or other.

---

Another Song from MY STATE FAIR LADY*

*For a synopsis of the story, see the Blog for May 18, 2010
[Plays Coming Soon ....] or click the "Broadway" label for this post.

HENRY the BARKER grew a conscience and is trying to make amends
for cheating people over the years with crooked Midway games.
So, rather than dancing all night, he sings:

I lost my pants last night
on games of chance last night.
I worked 'til half-past four.
I didn't cheat at all
when they threw basketballs.
Tonight, I'll lose some more.

I'll never know why it was so surprising,
when just for once the darts flew right.
I'm feeling so sincere - I need more teddy bears.
I lost my pants, pants, pants, alright!

MY LEAST FAVORITE THINGS

A song from The Sound of Mortars, my upcoming Broadway parody.
Sung by Majeeda, a double agent in war-time Afghanistan,
played by Christiana Amanpour or her understudy, Rachel Maddow.
For a synopsis, see my blog entry for May 18,
"Plays Coming Soon to the Short Attention Span Playhouse".

I don't like Hummers or airstrikes that hurt us,
Heat in the summer while ironing burkas.
I hate being naked in sandstorms that sting.
Perhaps that's my very least favorite thing.

Cold, clammy caves, and wars with no purpose.
Going to jail without habeus corpus.
Camel dung on my sandals and flies that it brings.
These are my very least favorite things.

When I'm tortured, water-boarded,
When I think I'll drown,
I think of my other least favorite things,
And then I down feel so down.

There is one more verse, sung by the seven dwarf terrorists,
but I want to rewrite parts of it.

PLAYS Coming Soon to THE SHORT ATTENTION SPAN PLAYHOUSE

Besides "My State Fair Lady",
I have two more musical parodies in the pipe:
"The Man of La Mafia" and "The Sound of Mortars".

"The Man of La Mafia", set in Nevada and California in the 1970s,
is the pathetic story of Don Banana, a slightly unstable
but compassionate and gentle pacifist, with curly blond hair,
born (unfortunately) into a crime family. Songs include:
The Man of La Mafia, Gordon Held Up a Casino and The Awesomest Scream. In a tender song called Gulping Air, Don professes his love
for a glitzy, ditzy Las Vegas showgirl, who he remembers from his youth when she was a nubile Mouseketeer named Annette.
To Don Banana, she will always be his childhood dreamgirl,
a 16-year-old hottie with an Italian last name
and a really nice pair of ...
Tootsie-Pop eyes.

"The Sound of Mortars" is set in war-time Afghanistan.
Is there any other time in Afghanistan?
It's about a beautiful double-agent, who calls herself "Madeeja"
(played by Christiana Amanpour) and a lovable but bungling band
of seven dwarf terrorists, who follow her everywhere.
Songs include: The Sound of Mortars (Madeeja),
How Do You Solve a Problem like Korea and
Climb Every Mountain (both sung by Mother Hillary).
Also, My Least Favorite Things (Madeeja and the dwarves),
which has some of my all-time most favorite rhymes,
and Invaded Twice (Ain't it nice), sung by Captain Von Laden,
joined by Madeeja and the boys, just before they escape
the military occupation of their beloved, pulverized homeland
by hiking up and over the mountains into Pakistan.

The story is fiction, of course, based on fact that is reminiscent of earlier fiction based on earlier fact. The name of the war may be different, but the story's the same. Who knows? The fiction/fact cycle may even go back, war by war, to the Peloponnesian War, and the futile attempt by Sisyphus to escape over the mountains
with his very large pet rock. Now, there's a promising research topic for a Theater major lacking talent.

I can't decide which of these two plays to finish first,
so I think I'll get going on the script for yet another one
that's been stuck in the pipe for years. It's a really deep play.
Here's a synopsis:
It's the story of a struggling NYC salesman who has resorted to acting
on weekends to support his family. He goes to see a play
about three or four struggling actors who have resorted to sales
to pay their rent. In one potentially confusing-as-hell scene
of the play within our play, the salesmen are rehearsing possible roles in The Drowsy Chaperone, The Producers, Hamlet,
A Midsummer Night's Dream, Taming of the Shrew, and perhaps a stage adaptation of Back to the Future -- each of which has a play within the play that's within the play within our play.
I warned you that this is really deep.
Meanwhile, back in the fictional theater of the Level I play
(the one with the title that's on the ticket you paid $90 for),
there's feisty dialogue going on between our struggling salesman
(who is obnoxious, hard-of-hearing, and from Texas)
and the guy in the next seat. This guy happens to be
the sleep-deprived author of the play they're watching ...
and other plays that get critiqued forthwith by the Texas salesman,
who obstinately refuses to turn off his cell-phone, ever.
Like all lyricists (myself included, I think), the artsy writer
is a bit manic, wound up like a clock-work detonation mechanism.
In the dramatic final scene, the meaning of our play's title
(yeah, you got it, the one on your $90 ticket) becomes apparent:
"The Death of a Cellphone".
It's a tragedy -- in more ways than one.
Deep, eh?

I'VE GROWN ACCUSTOMED TO HER FACE

A Song from "MY STATE FAIR LADY"

One critic said, "If reviving one play is good, two at a time must be twice as good. Then again, if a play is awful ...
"IMAGINE PYGMALION WITH REAL PIGS"

Scene 2 -- The MIDWAY

A singing Barker named Henry

Piano Intro -- 4 measures

I’ve grown accustomed to her face

though she has whiskers on her chin,

and though her skin is like a prune’s,

her lips like a baboon’s --

Her squeals, her moans

her grunts, her groans

are second nature to me now

as she breathes out and she breathes in.

When I was working in a circus

patching tents before we met,
there I heard some workers

describing this brunette:

whose head they’d cover with a sheet

or else the elephants stampede --

unaccustomed to her face.

(repeat verse as harmonica interlude)

I’ve grown accustomed to her face

and to her foolish toothless grin.

I’ve gotten used to hear her say

(spoken) “Why'd all the elephants run away?”

Her squeals, her smell
The seals can tell.

It's second nature to them now,
as they breathe out and they breathe in.

Yet I’m so grateful for this woman

for she brought me lots of luck.

Folks line up to look at her

They pay me half a buck.

I’ve grown accustomed to the trace

of something in the air --

accustomed to her face.