Come in from the Rain

in elephant’s-foot

brolly stand behind

the big door. Mind

your manners at High Tea.

Hi, you. High ve-

locity hailstones cream

passersby beyond the panes. I dream

of Jeannie, starring Bar-

bara Eden, of Eden, star-

ring Eve and Adam, of Adam

Cartwright, a.k.a. the let-'em-

have-it-with-all-candor

Trapper John. Pander

to the mass-man mass-taste,

that’s my motto. Waste

the day, the life, the villain

with depression, fill-in-

the-wrong-blanks misap-

prehension, dum-dums. Nap

an hour through the Buddy

Ebsen as a perspicacious fuddy-

duddy whodunit. Then produce

the silver teapot, loose

Earl Grey and table water

slabs. Somebody’s daughter

carries on the grand tradition

in the grandma manner. Wishin’

you were here don’t place you

in the old wing chair. Face you

in the photos, china, art

on parlor walls. It’s raining in my heart.