And so it’s Au Revoir to The Cellar
in fact it’s more a great big fat goodbye.
It all ends—not with a bang, but a whisper,

it’s not that I’ve got bigger fish to fry,
it is the same excuse Pacino used
in the opening scene of Carlito’s Way—

I got old! Time to usher in the new,
the Spoken Word Billy Blancos from the Bronx,
and bid a relieved, bittersweet adieu

to vice and verse weekenders with the ranks
of London’s boisterous, Biro chewing bards.
So, in place of a tedious round of thanks

I raise a glass and slowly step backwards
to watch the London scene move on without me
and toast the veterans and the upstarts.

I can’t get pissed, the missus won’t allow me.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Trackback: Canto LXXIII « The Mundane Comedy

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