nobody was saluting Man Ray

a silver label
of black and blue,
a solitary rock
and a bird that flew
when nobody was saluting
Man Ray
who found nothing new to say,
although he looked into his pocket
before he walked away.
the following week
in a fancy dress
he ran his hands through his Paris hair
to create another mess;
he later jumped into the night
for a cigarette or two
and as the fragrant smoke blew
he took a photograph
looking for you,
and what he found,
as the Dada band struck up,
was an old recording of a Beatles' song
and an empty cup
from the summer of '74
before the avant-garde party ended
and the final world war
found disbelieving people sleeping on the floor,
but the deed was done.
i finally walked back in
in the eyes of the watching world
and maintained my boyhood grin
when nobody was saluting
Man Ray
who found nothing new to say,
although he looked into his pocket
before he walked away.