Classic Poem

I'd come so far, the last leg
in a shiny new car and then the ride on the special train

for the privileged & successful. A pigeon or a parrot
dressed up as a hawk with my fake beak

and tie-on sweptbacks and all. Then some brainiac
getting into the limo ahead of you, tossing

off a quip or saintly expression, something you never
expected: you stumble and glance up at the huge white buildings,

abruptly overcome. Why'd you even start?
You used to go around asking them how they did it.

How'd you get the motor going? What was it
you believed in? My buddy's a war correspondent now.

We lost touch after going sour in a poker game.
My ex-wife runs a store. Blah blah blah, she used to say

when I tried to explain. Or Help me help me .