The tall thin rawboned fellow
Come up to Paw and me
On the misty racetrack.
“Got a good one in the fourth.”
“How do YOU know”
says my Dad
“I’m a jockey”
His hat waved over his eyes
In the rain.
I saw Arkansaw
behind him.
He looked too big to be a jockey
to me –
“Just put 4 dollars to win
And give me half
the winnings.”
I don’t remember now
whether my father fell
And got laid by that line,
But “too big
man
he too big
to be a jockey”
was my thought
124th Chorus
© Copyright: Джек Керуак, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111031009500
Свидетельство о публикации №111031009500
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