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I'm going to write a spontaneous poem and dedicate it to top 40 squeeze, simply because its going to involve washington square park
My prayer wheel's spinning in Washington Square Park
The piece at the end of the chain to keep it going
Is pointing at everyone around me
Three Frenchmen and one Frenchwoman
Singing passionately along with the street choir
Every word of "Ground Control to Major Tom"
The choir themselves assembled from what
Must've been a who'dve thunk it meeting of the minds
Not one of them lives less than
A subway ride from the next
But they've all met up near the northeast corner
To remind us how great those top fourty songs really were
"It was just my imagination running away with me"
And someone walks up and asks me what I'm holding
"It's a prayer wheel, it's got prayers inside and out
And if you keep spinning it its like yr saying them
A thousand times each time it goes around"
He asks me if I've read some piece by Ginsberg
Tells me "most of us Black Folk don't know Ginsberg
But I studied them all!" and just then another
Man walks by yelling at the top of his lungs
"Play some real black music!" and the two of us
Laugh as the weight at the end of my
Prayer wheel made out of bone
Points at him too.
__________________
"In the room the women come and go
With Vodka-mixed orange Jello"
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