Clint Eastwood
noted his birthday in passing by
shoooting it
as he waggled the cigar in his mouth then
sitting down
at the piano to riff on T. Monk who
also wore
a variety of hats and was enigmatic and
said little
but still was bad-ass like our boy Clint who
upon reflection
got up and went for the cake without a word

June 1st, 2013 at 12:10 am
Any poem, especially this well-written, about Clint is great in my eyes. -Mike
May 31st, 2013 at 9:43 am
Good story compressed into quality
May 31st, 2013 at 11:27 am
Thank you very much. Just a little ditty for Clint’s birthday, May 31.