Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Inconspicuous Cashman... the poem by HoraceClarke66

Blogger HoraceClarke66 said...

Inconspicuous, Cashman was
Quick and quiet and clean, he was
Back of his smile, under his word
Cashie heard music that nobody heard

Cashman pondered and Cashman planned
Like a perfect machine, he planned
Cashie was smooth, Cashie was subtle
Cashie would blink, and rats would scuttle

He served a dark and a vengeful god
What happened then, well, that's the play
And he wouldn't want us to give it away...


Cletis Boyer said...

Hope you are taking time to read this blog, Brian. HoraceClarke66 has immortalized you.

HoraceClarke66 said...

Aww. I just hope this off-season has the same happy ending that Sweeney Todd does, with everybody dead or baked into pies, save for the promising young folks.

Anonymous said...



HoraceClarke66 said...

Thanks. Though somehow, I feel I should give a little credit to Mr. Sondheim. And that crazy old lug himself, Sweeney Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street.

Hmm, is he in practice still? Maybe we could arrange a visit for Ellsbury...

"He shaved the faces of gentlemen
Who never thereafter were heard of again..."