MY OHIO OVERLOAD
Whoever it was said that orange leaves can't
fall from a willow don't know a thing of what
they're saying. Brushfire ethos, the ashes of
froth. This cup on the table stews.
Water turns to wine - even miracles mention that,
but this old water's brown now again. Coffee from
somewhere far off. Beans from, oh, say Guatemala?
One time Sagamore Hill. One time Niagara Falls.
Nothing comes form nothing, sometimes, and the
very idea of negative space is all I've got. Oh my
darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darlin', Clementine.
Akron's the blush to Youngstown's fury.
(Take me home again, Kathleen).