Jake's Flea Market

i wore it
like the beauty of the woman
i guided through the room under chandeliers
where the tuxedoed five- piece- band
played the dance with their strings

wore it for the boy
with his pal on the corner i wore it
to lead their pointing fingers
from west to east
when i cruised up third avenue
and from east to west
when i cruised back down again

it was the life on my sleeve
the jewel on my lapel
was that sparkling cherrywine paint
that padded vinyl landau top
those fenderskirts and wirespoked wheels

it was my throatsound that stereo
and the resonance of dual exhaust
was the voice i wore i wore
the voice of the priest
the voice of the mechanical professor

i wore the immaculate chevrolet suit
kept clean and pressed
with the visacard overextended
and the insurance policy overdue
and my only change of clothes
folded into an inner pocket 

and the boy who pumped the gas
the boy who said nice car mister
oh i could hear the coins
of all the days i might have saved
jingling in the pockets of his coveralls