Coffee House Poems

Busking Out All Over or Where's Your Monkey?


When I'm feeling good and the weather is sweet,

I roll out my cart and head for the street.


I find a good spot where the crowds aren't too deep

and set up my cart with nary a peep.


On go curtains, up goes the umbrella, on goes the crank,

I play a tarantella.


My monkey, all clad in red and yella.' sits on the organ,

a handsome small fella.


The people walk by as I crank out a tune, doing my best

to be a cartoon.


I crank in the morning 'til late afternoon, I crank in the sun,

I crank in the moon.


Some give a penny, some give a dollar. I thank them all,

and I never holler whether they're rich or covered in squalor,

or even wearing a clerical collar.


When it's time to go home I pack up my cart, my monkeys

and me, and soon we depart.


With a tune in my head and joy in my heart, we head back

home to my lovely sweetheart.