on the stoop where he sat
with his cane and his cat
so brown and so fat
underneath his tophat
where his hair's growing flat
as he steps up to bat
swinging wide at a gnat
missing badly.
his teeth were so set
and his brows were so wet
with the dripping of sweat
just as wet as they get
and he's placing his bet
that it lands in the net
and to never forget
giving gladly.
he gives it a try
to sit and look high
like a cloud in the sky
so puffy so fly
to float and float by
and rain on the dry
while the wind makes him cry
drizzling sadly.
but no one can see
what he needs to break free
if it's climbing a tree
or practicing chi
he's quick to agree
he would love just to be
a man just like me
whistling happily.
