Photos of the day: ‘TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE WHITEWASH
Photos of the weekend: WHITEWASH – Jeffrey Leder Gallery, 2137 45th Road a few steps away from the #7 train Court Street Station, April 5, 6-9pm. All my friends are invited to celebrate! http://www.timeout.com/newyork/art/5-pointz-is-backon-gallery-walls-at-least?fb_action_ids=4088797314782&fb_action_types=og.likes&fb_ref=.Uz620EaI39U.like&fb_source=aggregation&fb_aggregation_id=288381481237582 — at Jeffrey Leder Gallery.
Photo of the day: SANTA AND A TWIST on ‘THE NIGHT BEFORE/after CHRISTMAS’
Photo of the day: WHAT DOES SANTA DO AFTER CHRISTMAS CELEBRATE ! ! – Here is my ‘poetic’ twist on Clement Moore’s classic poem as I encounter drunk Santa after Christmas in front of Macy*s . . .
. . . And then, in a twinkling, I heard something uncouth
The prancing and pawing of Santa whose had too much vermouth.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down 34th Street St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fake fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with cigarette ashes and street soot;
A giant stuffed fish he had flung on over his back,
And he looked like a street peddler just opening his pig pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His eyes, how blurry!
His cheeks and nose were like roses, he surely was in no hurry.
His drawl from his mouth was Southern – a bit slow,
And the beard on his chin with gray as the street snow;
The stump of a ____ pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a crazed face and a little round pot belly
That shook when he ranted, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was happy and drunk, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and his twisted head,
Soon gave me to know he was out of his head;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
To fill his own stockings from tourists that looked like a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up ‘snow’ did rose;
Then he sprang into his dance, and the crowd did whistle,
And their cameras clicked until the arrival of a policeman’s dismissal
But I heard him exclaim, ere he stumbled out of sight—
Happy returns to all, if you kept your receipt – you done right!
(with my apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)