dimanche 22 décembre 2013

Great Water Blues

 

Great Water Blues


Dad’s home was in Copiah county, Ms but he made mine here,
The city whose cold is as sharp as a butcher’s knife,
Where, paved with lead, streets are bordered by shacks and weeds,
And where gusts of whisper now sweep the sidewalks of my desolate life.

Like a Southern old timer, I sow dimes and track racoons and squirrels,
Rural survival in the shade of the Distraught Central Station,
This rollercoaster of roses and nettles,
The countryside crawling into the city, among buildings and joints.
Never leave the land of Marvin and Sixto – my baby used to say
And I hang on to it, waiting for revival and some sweeter day.

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