Thursday, July 14, 2011

3200. LITANY GANAROSIS

LITANY GANAROSIS
Twenty-five years ago and more
what was done was done. I once
did drop the girl off at the hotel,
but I always left without seeing
the remains. All those hokey
hunters and farmers in Troy, PA.
-
And it wasn't just that, merely less -
ocean girl, who'd never seen the sea,
sky-diving lady, who'd never been off the
ground. How little it all mattered - none at
all. Somewhere in that small downtown was
the Ben Franklin Store. Named for a fellow who
wouldn't spend a nickel, but was always wanting
yours. I knew them all, the paupers and the
poor - and I walked with a head held high.
-
I sold tools to the mechanics, I sold water
to the swans. I drove school kids to their
deaths, I held councils with the deaf.
Small town oasis blues. I sang them
with the best, in 1972.

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