WEBVTT

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A poem called "The
Ink Spots," you all

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know the ink spots if
you don't, play it.

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Don't pretend you don't,
do you know Ink Spots?

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Dun duh duh duh di di
di di if I didn't --

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all right, "The Ink Spots".

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This about a dove and there is
a place in here called Altoona.

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It's a city in
Pennsylvania, what used

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to be a Great Railroad town.

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And there's a curve as a
train rounds of mountain

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called the horseshoe curve.

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It's famous for about 10 miles.

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"The thing about the dove was
how he cried in my pocket,

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and stuck his nose out just
enough to breathe some air,

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and we've got some
snow and got some--

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and get some snow in his eye.

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And he would have snuggled in,
but I was afraid and brought

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him into the house, so he could
shit on the New York Times.

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Still I had to kiss
him after a minute,

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I put my lips to his beak and
he knew what he was doing.

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He stretched his neck and
touched me with his open mouth

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lifting his wings a little,
and readjusting his legs

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loving his own prettiness.

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And I just sang from
one of my stupid songs,

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from one of my vile decades,
the way I do, I have to admit.

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It was something
from trains, I know

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he'd like that, resting
in the cold car,

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slightly dusted with mountain
snow, somewhere near Altoona.

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The horseshoe curve he knew
so well, his own moan mashing

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the trains, a radio
playing the Ink Spots,

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the engineer roaring."

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