Later Than You Think

Sometimes it really is later than others;
the trick is to know when such occurrences might arise. 
(One dusty kid, who lived by the tracks said,
“Over here there’s two hobbies possible;
waiting for the train to pass and not waiting.)


If renown could not be found
in the butchery of another’s fame
there would be no such Garden as the City,
no birds of reputation to carry our name.


Falling down
is no guarantee you’ll get up.

(Operator’s Optional Tip #22: 
In the City, however, it’s assured that you’ll think about it.)


He who is ignorant of intestines,
has but a cloudy concept of brains.
(Rancid meat can compete with inspiration as neural ignition.)
[The distance between a betongued, burning bush,
and incidental indigestion may have just shrunk.]


I overheard a guy admitting to himself,
(who he sometimes used as his “imaginary kid”),
confessing, “When you’re petty, ‘tis with wondrous
and glorious ease, proceeds a parade of petty acts.”


In secondary jaunts in the City,
if you can’t fear the things,
you can always fear their shadows.