Last Call For Alcohol 1953

               Last Call For Alcohol

The bar is closing as the clock nears three,

And the waiter sings his very last phrase

To the guys and dolls in the very last phase of life,

Strife and dissipation.

So the waiters speak again,

And the drinkers seek again:

Another bar to outlet all their blues.

“Last call for booze!”

“Last call for alcohol!”

So the waiters sing their mournful cry

To the men and women who want to die,

Cause they can’t continue their supply of alcohol.

How quite unfortunate,

As you listen to their importunate pleas of,

“Please, buddy, can’t you spare another drink?”

How ominous that last phrase sounds

As the realization hits them

That they can’t get any more rounds

Of whisky or gin,

Or anything else that’ll let them in

To the land of Oobladee.

When you ask them why they drink,

They stop, they pause, they think.

And what excuses they all give,

Such as, “This is really livin’ ”

Or, “The job’s a bore…’

‘Can’t take no more of life!

What strife!

So they’ll stay as long as they can stall,

Until their weary faces fall

And Jimmy utters his last call:

“Last call for alcohol.”

“Last call for alcohol.”

©Last Call For Alcohol 1953

Lyrics; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin


Impulsion 1959


My brand new psychoanalyst agreed.

I could tell as he sat smoking in his tweed.

I’d found someone who understood my need.

Yes, I’d found someone , someone indeed.

My monologue was you and our affair;

The reason, as you know, why I was there.

I put aside my pride (I even cried).

As last, my silent analyst replied:

“You’ve got impulsion.

In the jargon of my colleague, Doctor Dyber G..Enetic,

It’s pituadrenalogic, in its early form kinetic.

Symptomatic is that hilo-satisfactatory pain

Pushing firmly, gently, always on the amatory brain.

But a functional disorder is not measurably plain –

So relax and we will see what we can do.

It’s possible there’s nothing wrong with you.”

My fifty minute hour flew

At twenty dollars per.

Parenthetically, I pay him less

Than all the rest, I’m sure.

Left the office, said “Goodbye, nurse.”

Reached the door and found my purse.

Took an Equanil to calm me down

And calmly feeling worse,

Took a Deximil to pick me up,

A stick of gum and nursed a cigarette.

How did it start?

Where is the cause now?

I guess I’ll have to blame it one my youth.

My applecart is applesauce now,

And my actions are neurotically uncouth.

I’ve got impulsion,

I’m very glad it’s got a name.

Now I can play my little game

Of poisons darts blown at your little picture frame.

I feel so stylish.

I feel so chic.

I’ve got impulsion.

©Impulsion 59.3.20

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin




Bonuses & Politicians 2008-9

     Bonuses & Politicians

The problem is, we justify.

Everybody can and does.

All sanctioned by the theories

Which seem to work. They don’t.

Numbers, stats’, trends

End in partials.

Some truth, more left,

No theory the whole;

Admit it.

Budgets, monies –

Whole is a half,

Or quarter or an eighth.

They do not work.

None of it works.

Are they fools?

Are we jerks?

With the best intentions,

There are no solutions

But just one –

Reducing, drawing in, contracting.

That’s a start, an opening.

© Bonuses & Politicians 4.15.2008
Our Times, Our Culture;
Arlene Corwin




Global Situation 2008

          Global Situation


And all around;

Mass fleeing,


By wars


By us –

There has

To be a downfall,

Short-term windfalls



How dare we

Indulge in self-deceit,

No self insight

And not expect

The stars to fall

On Alabama?

©Global Situation 2.17.2008

Defiant Doggerel; Our Times, Our Culture; War Book;

Arlene Corwin






Day After #1 2009

             Day After #1

Day after New Year is

Continuation ordinaire:

Nothing changed except the number.

I‘m a yin/yang, pro-con person

Celebrating time that’s done.

Why the fireworks?

© Day After 1.2.2009

Time; A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Our Times, Our Culture;

Special People, Special Occasions;

Arlene Corwin




Clearly Not Enough 2008

      Clearly Not Enough

Overwhelmed by paper:

Baskets full,

Information right and wrong,

Longing for a Oneness


Your longing not enough.

Long away from silence,

Tempted, drawn to

Print and sound;

Fated to go round on round

In matches never winnable.

Knowledge sweet and fooling,

Even true

(Like what I say to you)

Swerve eye and hand to keyboard clicks.

Handing over selves to clocks,

Count absolute and relative,

Their measured digits running

Precious paring into Silence.

Overwhelmed by paper baskets full of information right and wrong, when all I want is Oneness. Everyday and every moment I am pulled away from silence, tempted by print and sound, fated to never get that Oneness. Even knowledge that is true knowledge persuades my eye and the rest of my senses away from seeking silence (the way to oneness). It prevents me from

understanding the true meaning of time and its destination…silence.

Arlene Corwin

© Clearly Not Enough 1.27.2008

Birth, Death & In Between; I is Always You Is We; Our Times, Our Culture;







Addictions 2008


She tries to sit out in the sun


No one

To phone,

No paper, pen:


Longing vague –

A need to do,

To have,

To move;

Oh dear, a fever

Of the modern clan, man

Sends its muddily demanding


To a brain

That wants to sit out in the sun


Without a phone,

A paper, pen,

A load of notions

That addict.

© Addictions 3.23.2008

I is Always You Is We; Our Times, Our Culture;

The Processes:Creative,Thinking, Meditative;

Arlene Corwin



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