Alas, 'tis very seldom that I can regress,
but last night I did so successfully.
I found myself in an archaic saloon, I
believe in New York City. It was ever so
fascinating and I found myself gawking!
I glanced down to see what kind of attire
I was wearing and realized I was a man.
So, with less fear, I approached the bar.
There were wondrous, dusty bottles of
beer, unknown to me, encased in pieces
torn from old gunny sacks. There were
chests of all sorts, sizes and decor. I
wanted to stick about half of them in
my non-existent bra!
Told rather roughly by a domineering
type man, to 'get on with it,' I fancied
he must be in charge of some crew.
I picked up a bottle of beer and was
told by a young gal behind the bar
something along the lines of it was
out of my price range. 'You'll not be
affording that one, matey!' I was left
with the wanting of it.
Not knowing what I was supposed to
select for supposed impending voyage,
nor clear on what my role was to be,
I continued grazing, as I tend to think
of it. There were a few gowns that I
had no business checking out! Huge
amounts of material for . . . ladies of
the night or just ladies?!
I tucked a couple bottles of unknown
booze under my arm, wondering if I
had the wherewithal to pay. The same
gal, this time looking approvingly at
my choices, informed me that, 'ole
boss man' had already taken care of it.
Right about then I returned, somewhat
saddened, but grateful for the journey . . .
find myself bereft
where have you been billy boy
questions and questing
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