Tuesday, December 09, 2008


There is no name for this composition. I just found it in an old notebook, and kind of like it. Morgantown, spring, 1997.

'dem fish shure are jumping,
I would be too.
From one of the top ten
dirtiest rivers
in the good ol' U. S. of A.

And the wind
Shure is blowing that river south
though it wants to go north
like the way that rusty pipe's pointing
from out the slimy bottom.

that train shure is a'rolling.
To Fairfax, Naples, Springfield...

The way that water's shining up at me,
you'd think I was the only one
The sun knows.

Ah, but it's not me.
It's the power plan I'm weeded in with
droning and hissing,
'don't think it'll ever stop.

I best get a job.
lessen I want to watch this terrible river
die for all my life.

I'm glad that the big bear hasn't bitten me (us),
I pray that he will not have, Amen.

Better news: the tree remains standing here,
Not where you are, where I am.
where I have always been.
Where I will remain.
It stands untouched, but the wind.
She bends him to the North!
And he breathes the clean air, New!
Anew, and like his eyes sparkled,
She showed him far far away deeds.
Learnt him right Straight, she did!
And he understands. He listens and sees, and he wants
to see so bad, but instead
Grows. And matures,
Right here.

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