you never got my puns

[saw]

in our eternal quest for expectations
the alley is usually black with shadowy figures
that quickly disappear in the peripheral vision
behind the dumpsters like rat extras from the phantom

of the opera, stalking the hungry veins of the night...
there are rarely cozy cafes on summer sidewalks with
waiters with French accents and Australian wine
and the next Miles Davis has usually forgotten his horn

there are no Jack Kerouac's to hold our hands
like an electrical conduit so we can feel the Beat,
You never got my puns, and I couldn't tell what it was
you were trying to say, we circled the obvious

like a pack of murderous wolves, and in the end
nothing from nothing leaves nothing, and Billy Preston
is Albert Einstein and Cinderella is a cross-dresser being authentic
and black and white don't make gray , they make it impossible

to dance cheek to cheek, two lefts never make it right
and tic tac toe is played with X's and Y's instead of X's and O's
and try though we may to solve the oldest puzzle known to humanity,
Bogie had it right... a hill of beans is impossible to scale....and it don't matter anyway

[WIREMAN]

A hill of beans is impossible to scale for sure

[the mingo]

Thx saw - enjoyed - as far as the hill of beans goes I'd just eat them