Starting with Something: 2013

dressed like a little Hamlet at
closing time for my New Year's ball
i spent two hours exchanging ideas
about our Empire's rise and fall.
i had combed my hair so neatly;
wore a white shirt with shoes shined,
was barely tempted to wear a disguise
while being wined and dined.
i even made some primitive face
when a figurative lady asked about my art:
mandolins and gramophones
playing music went passing in a cart.
Tipperary was the tune i heard,
the simplest of all the chords;
while handbags and jackets in a pile
surrounded Arab and Chinese swords.
but the Indian guy with the brightest smile
when his brother was about to leave
embraced me with his Buddhist grin
and i felt nothing up his sleeve.
i knew his work from a Russian friend
who regaled me with tales of fire
between rye bread and a tasty leg
which i kept kissing ever higher.
but at midnight there was no emphasis
on the watchman dimming lights
as everyone characteristically
kept pointing out the sights.
so with tie undone and no mockery,
i left an indelible mark;
out the door i went in a hurry
thinking "Man, this is just the start!"