.waiting line theory.

P. S. Burton

Moses' Fortune

--To my sweet and dear Dulcinea.

The Crow cows to the beat of rain drops.
The sounds of god, himself is ringing.
The Cat meows as it walks along the roof tops.
And do I say there sits a man singing.

On the coldest day of a Mississippi summer.
There sits Ol' Moses Fortune!
A white haired, Ol' Negro singing to his lover,
A lover long dead of a grand misfortune.

He sits and wrestles with land.
The dirt fills up his nail;
And falls gentle to the leather hand.
Looking, looking for his lover's grail.

Moses' looking longingly at the ground.
Finds some hope, an angels wing.
For all he wished was sudden found.
A simple, simple thing.

To fly away from such heated earth,
To find his lover, swimming in the Styx.
To kiss her bow and give her birth
To guide the hand Phlegyas as he inflicts.

To save his darling queen from deaths dry eye.
And to give back to her other lover.

Ol' Moses Fortune was a lover's friend—to die
For her was his only end. He gave a nod to the
Keeper of the inn to replace the misfortunes done
Before. Put his life on the table and this story is
Still a fable.