RAGGED RHYMES FOR RAGGED TIMES

The Future Told A crystal ball rolled up my leg, “Your future, sir?” Do tell, I beg “I’ll need a drink, and make it stiff, it’s hard to watch you toe the cliff” Now fortified, he glows all blue he hums a tune, then drops the shoe “Gold and silver, the day live-long”, he rattles out the shop-worn song Ho hum what news, I’d like a break from chasing baubles, the greasy stake we’re cursed to claw and slaver after cradle to grave, and die of laughter reeling, drunk on disappointment slayed by greed, the black anointment we fail to win the bet, just shy so pray for dollars in the sky Such future with my life so checkered? “My lad, I’m just a broken record I’ll croon the same to any bum no matter what the tune they strum As sinners go you’re not the worst so why apply to be less cursed than others on the counting rack just bear the monkeys on your back” He downed another shot and winked, reading futures through the drink soused with no more rhymes to utter rolled off my knee and down the gutter