I suppose that it was just a busted Skyy Vodka bottle. Crushed by repeated car tracks, it shone with all of the beauty of the rarest jewels. Who decides that one stone is valuable and that another is just road debris. The incredible blue gleam took my breath away this morning as I headed down to the diner for breakfast.
Not long ago I looked out my kitchen window and there was the end of the rainbow shining on my garden gate. Really. I guess beauty is all around if you keep your eyes and your heart open.
I wish that I could be in Ireland with my pals, the Burns Sisters, for St. Patrick's Day but I'll drink a glass of green Kool Aid tonight at the Flamingo Bar and celebrate the life of Jack Kerouac instead.
Here's a live version of Billy's First Ex-Wife. I miss Billy Artlip.
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