Queen Merka & Me

Oh, the pretty little girl, on Easter's day

by a bright center fountain consented to play

Held an Easter star very close to her heart

Stepping back from the fountain

so as not to be harmed by the spray

There she did play

Told her toy rabbit to smile, for a poor man's child

can also be loved by the rain from above

Glistening spray

And the soldiers on leave from the ship Genevieve

with their all-shining buttons and newly-pressed sleeves

Taking pictures that day of the Easter Parade

they stood watching the clowns

who were gathered about pretty girls

Now watching them swirl,

told one another to laugh mainly to forget

all the memories of dead swirling leaves

seen from the ship Genevieve

Nobody sees but Queen Merka and me

and she is sitting beneath a tree

86th Street, 11 pm in the evening tide

And the little girl hippie, the queen of virginity,

says for her lover she has an affinity

Her hair swings with ease, he trips in the breeze,

She comes to the fountain and says,

If you'd please move around,

I should like to sit down

Painting her mind with a flask, readjusting her mask

She's a virgin queen who's done everything

and a bit more

And the great stoned hash eater, the childless wife beater

He walks with his boyfriend on into the spray

Saying "I love you babe,"

Walking down toward the pavement

and locking, embracing, as though to say

"I don't care; I love him more than her."

He makes his way down to the center of town

where a fountain of petals says "You are not metal"

"Your love is not wrong"

Nobody sees but Queen Merka and me

And she is sitting beneath a tree

86th Street, 11 pm in the evening tide

And the dirty old man, he whiles out the day

He's a permanent fixture, a sidewalk display

He's got very strange habits, like making passes

and he smiles with his dentures

as the fountain spray passes his crown

It's all part of the merry-go-round

Thinks of them that's behind, sort of wishing that life

could be a bit more fair, as he's losing his hair

There goes his sex appeal

And what of the fountain? Oh, it overflows

drowning all the people in their best Easter clothes

Laughingly, knowingly, it's unifying

all of the people, assured they were dying

tethered, bound by water together

The city's together at last, but the moment has passed

They all walk away, far from the spray

Going their separate ways

Nobody sees but Queen Merka and me

And she is sitting beneath a tree

86th Street, 11 pm in the evening tide