Whether at Potosi or Farmington,
Whether the Cup with Jack or Boone’s Farm run,
The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,
The cigarette ashes of Life keep falling one by one.
Each Morn a thousand semis brings, you say;
Yes, but where leaves the pickup truck of Yesterday?
And this first Summer month that brings the pop-up camper and motor home
Shall take spring turkey hunter and Ski-dooer away.
Well, let it take them! What have we to do
With long haul cowboys and snowbirds on the move?
Let Billy-Bob and Virgil bluster as they will,
Or Ma call to Supper–heed not you
With me along the strip of alley strown
That just divides the mini-mart/gas station from the sown,
Where name of Vern and Bubba is forgot–
And Peace to the trucker (who ate all the burritos) on his golden Throne!
The Big Book of Jokes underneath the Bough,
Cheap smokes, fireworks, whiskey, worms–and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness–
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
Thanks to my friend Stacey for the photo of this delightful oasis in the Missouri desert. Apologies and thanks also to Omar Khayyam for the The Rubaiyat, a pretty good little poem.
Hey, by any chance is that place a franchise? Let’s open a whole string of them up and down the eastern seaboard.
Do you think the east would respond as well as the south? Then lets get ‘er done!
I distinctly remember hating my 10th grade social studies teacher for making me read this poem and then embarrass myself with my interpretation of its meaning. Mr. Dunbar, if you’re still alive and reading this blog, I still hate you!
Your version, pegoleg, was much easier to read and a helluva lot funnier. It went just perfectly with my moon pie and RC cola. Just goes to show you how overrated those ancient classics are.
Hey, don’t drive Mr. Dunbar away! He may be one of only 2 people reading this post!
Thanks Al. Hope there’s some bourbon in that RC.
Superbly written! Made me want to go out and get a bag of fried pork rinds… You are so talented!
Aw thanks, you made my day! The pork rinds are on me (metaphorically speaking).
Remember our family trip to Charleston, SC? Plenty of opportunities to witness the very elements your poem speaks to. Can’t say I ever read the original as Big Al lamented, but, as usual, I like your take on things!
My little sis is SOOOOO talented. Keep up the great work!
Aw, thanks Miss Guitar! Right back at you!
Where’s the duct tape? You forgot the duct tape!
My hands were full what with the cheap smokes, whisky, fireworks and worms. Next trip – duct tape.
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Mini Mart… feels like home 🙂 Hilarious.
That’s right – you’re a southern lady. Can you get worms and whiskey right next to the baby formula in the stores?
Okay, I missed this because my WordPress reader had a nervous breakdown or something and I couldn’t see if any of the blogs I follow had posted anything.
And, I’m sorry I missed this! This is an inspired work of bloggy genius. “Cheap smokes, fireworks, whiskey, worms–and Thou” Classic!
I KNEW you’d get it, Amy! You weren’t alone with the Reader breakdown – it was system wide for more than a week. Mine still looks funny, and now shows double of most new posts.
Mine is doing that now too, when it shows any new posts at all. I hate to think of all the awesome stuff I’m missing!
I suppose I may need to break down and start using Google Reader as a back-up.