Lounging in cafes, sucking sugar cane|
How the Yankee work ethic I abuse
Scratching ditties, what's sacred I profane
My wastrel Life serving as its own Muse
Living in the moment, creating Art
Words, thoughts, images, myself to outlive
A life without strings, the horse-after-cart
Surely I do take much more than I give
But, where (ask) are the wages of my sin
What durst I for this loss of innocence?
With Olympian gods I have an in
They underwrite my sloth and indolence
Scribbling rhymes, self-described literature
Thus lives my Venus-sponsored sinecure.