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I feel like the Americana Rockwell didn’t draw July 27, 2015

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry.

When someone says “he’s a savant” I get skeptical.

Who talks like that anymore?

Like a rim shot off the trash receptacle

how do we know what’s dumb confronted with smart galore?

I had this vision of what I could do

in the throes of love at twenty-two –

that thing, you know, that just couldn’t miss

like passion and desire burning through a first kiss.

Now, it’s forty years later and I don’t know where it’s gone.

Stop me if you’ve heard this before

it’s like a god-forsaken love song.

It’s like me as welcome mat in front of the door.

Dusty, caked with cockle burs and straw

unattended and thread bare here and there.

I feel like the Americana Rockwell didn’t draw.

He decided to take on less heavy fare.

I’m a foot soldier standing in front of a minefield

receiving his orders to “attack”

from a General who doesn’t have his back

but knows full well his fate is sealed.



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