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Lonely Soul and the Mississippi

Kenneth, loves satire and writings to spotlight others, but he also has an "addiction" so to speak, to dramatic and abstract/prose poetry.

The lonesome Mississippi River just rolls along.

The lonesome Mississippi River just rolls along.

Each day when dusky shadows seem to move

I stare at the ground, and listen to a lonesome bat.

Nothing else to do. Not much left to prove.

Singing a solo in a painful lung and I really hate that.

The few dusky shadows are fearful as I move away

They think me as a beast, an ogre, and a mad dog.

Oh, for a few sunlit days tied end-to-end--night to day.

But I just hum a silent song to a lonesome frog.

No quartet ever drifts my way anymore

Fame and riches are bound to them well and good.

I just dance a soft shoe, jailhouse number out my front door.

How really alone must I be? I'm flesh, not wood!

Ahhh, the sneaking, sly smile of the sunrise beams

Catches a rattlesnake's prey--the rays ne'er bother

It seems as if death walks with me, and darkness in seams.

I would leave if a woman would love me . . .

I'd love her and not another.

But alas, there sits those carefully-placed rosebush petals

Sitting there an old warrior with his wounded medals.

I just watch without stirring and molding factory metals.

And sleep soundly on front porch while the rattler dines . ..

And the dusky shadows melt into their vintage wine.

Writer's summary -- a lonesome guy sits on the front porch of his

rural abode and with no one to talk to or make a life for anyone,

he just sits. Amazing what his painful eyes can really see.


Lower Mississippi River near New Orleans.

Lower Mississippi River near New Orleans.

© 2018 Kenneth Avery

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