Tomorrow Comes

Tomorrow comes
like the sailor who lost the sea
or a pack of pall malls which lay filterless
upon the dresser.
Like a bogart waiting for a bacall
but the movie ended and we clapped,
when we should have cried...

old heroes never die...

but you say to yourself
"it's only a ticket stub"
you say
though no one listens
and as you walk home
your stained jeans think of those making love
while your alone...

does no one know your name? ... in this place where
philosophers and intellects learn to tie their shoes

You've lived your life from a cigarette pack
knowing your friends will write your epitaph in crayon
and no one gives a damn
that you died before breakfast
or if it rains upon your grave
where muddy tracks make the way
with flowers, fresh cut, alive to wilt

and no one knows your name

...they will say...
...they will say...

when it's the evening of your eternal sleep
and your forgotten at some corner bar
where the jukebox softly plays your farewell
and your best friend moans
all too aware of tomorrows hangover
"another round please...

...without the applause"

      N.J. Hartney