My parents left for Uncle Sonny's wake this morning. He was a complex man. He was part store front preacher and old school pimp with drop top caddy to match. I don't know if the Temptations were talking about Sonny specifically when they sang of their late oft absent papa, but I can only hope that the 1973 classic is playing somewhere nearby. Special thanks to Sophie for inspiring me to write this. The folks with degrees call this process closure:
Sonnys Paradise
Pockets full of ten dollar bills
Twenty sacks of kind
The temporary pleasures of a biblical woman
Comforting song from cold, sweet wine.
That is all I ask for in Sonnys Paradise.
Fireflies pirhouette on freshly cut grass
The radio playing my favorite song
No sandbags in the family game of Spades
And accepting that answers are sometimes wrong
That is all I ask for in Sonnys Paradise
Siestas on a summers day
Laughter from my grandchildrens play
Storyville husslas taking the day off
And hatreds cured by poems that do not rhyme
That is all I ask for in Sonnys Paradise
Sonnys Paradise
Pockets full of ten dollar bills
Twenty sacks of kind
The temporary pleasures of a biblical woman
Comforting song from cold, sweet wine.
That is all I ask for in Sonnys Paradise.
Fireflies pirhouette on freshly cut grass
The radio playing my favorite song
No sandbags in the family game of Spades
And accepting that answers are sometimes wrong
That is all I ask for in Sonnys Paradise
Siestas on a summers day
Laughter from my grandchildrens play
Storyville husslas taking the day off
And hatreds cured by poems that do not rhyme
That is all I ask for in Sonnys Paradise
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
kaos:
Hmm... a swiss army knife woulda been pretty sweet... or a tank. But I did get undies, a tank top and a grip of stickers... so that'll have to do 
deucecaddy:
a tripod. i don't own firearms 