Padgettwise

“Vorwartz!”  —  General Blutcher

Ron Padgettwise,
a manner Ron Padgett
himself never had
to affect,
is sometimes
the best way out of here
where ‘here’ is
ich macht right nowen,
mit und pigfoot & 
a bottle of beer 
(“A double, barkeep!”),
or so I find.
Standing on
‘the shoulders of a giant’—
with my head into the wind
my scarf blowing
cigarette held
that continental way,
pinched between
forefinger & thumb—
you can do it—
& the beer, which
you’ve had,
imbibed,
why,
the spirit soars you’ll notice—
to the mind’s applause—
a bit, a fraction—
& you step off the tower Eiffel,
or some tower,
in Potsdammerplatz—
or off the gutter
merely—safe, because
Padgettwise;
‘safe’ really because 
Stacey & Gabe detect
your inner Kirchner
your inner Beckmann
(beer & cigarette,
respectively) 
& are at hand,
& the
sophisticated Walter Brennan
(the Padgett aura),
running interference—
a warning device.
In any case you are 
On The Other Side
—of the road merely—
‘merely’—but that’s all that
counts, you got where 
you wanted to—
alive—in the next 
phase of your life 
(which will resemble very much
the last, as one cigarette,
inevitably
resembles very much
another: ideally, too)
& light up—
& order another, for
this is Germany,
& carry on
in orderly fashion,
Padgettwise.  I
recommend it.