-Oh, lordy!-

1.

God's got the dryness of the withered hand at his mouth.

His fingertips smell like salt & vinegar.

He’s at the snack cupboard again panting for potato chips.

No wonder he’s fat,–– and he's drinking...  what's that he's drinking...

“Ahh..champagne.–– Champagne cocktails”!

(Always wanted to use old Frank Pentangeli's line in a poem)

2.

Due to the eagerly anticipated death of perennial speaker,

fatso Dominic DeCarlo, I've been selected to address

the yearly "Frank Nitty Businessman’s Lunch"

at Club Marconi's annex downtown to benefit unpublished poets

and other displaced derelicts week after next.

3.

Oh, lordy!

It's later than I think.–– “Cicci! la porta”!