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STIRRING UP THE BOTTOM
We have started a poetry revival in historic Shockoe bottom and shall continue to stir it here on the 
World Wide Web.

 

Dinner with Ayn Rand
(The Ballad of Alan Greenspan)


She was lying in the valley when I saw the curve of her hips -

There was a rise and falling of her breasts among the hills

and the air was honeyed with her breath

as she lay among the Titans of the land.

I knew then I had fallen in love with Ayn Rand. 
 

Ayn Rand over the mountains

Ayn Rand over the seas

Ayn Rand going for home plate

Sliding on bulldozer knees 
 

I put my arms around her, smelled the sweetness of her hair.

When she turned her face to mine there was sunshine in the air.

When she spoke to me I heard what I needed to hear:

ďReach and take me, I am yours.Ē 
 

Ayn Rand over the mountains

Ayn Rand over the seas

Ayn Rand knew me not

As her flesh enfolded me 
 

She invited me to dinner for a Thanksgiving feast,

to share her groaning board of Oysters, roasts and fowl.

Ayn Rand set the table with silver, crystal, SpodeÖ

For dessert would be cumquats, sorbets,

petit fours, and European cakes

washed down with wine enough to fill a dozen lakes. 
 

Ayn Rand over the mountains

Ayn Rand over the seas

Iím on my way to her house

In a landaulet Mercedes  
 

Knocking on her front door, the doorman let me in.

I walked into the hall and there stood Ayn Rand in a silk gown,

white gloves and diamonds.

For her I wore a black tie and Italian shoes.

I fastened a gold necklace around her lovely neck. 
 

Ayn Rand over the mountains

Ayn Rand over the seas

Iím going to live in her house

For all eternity 
 

We feasted at her table all night long.

When the sun rose we took a stroll upon the lawn.

Returning to her parlor, 300 years had gone.

Ayn was as young as ever, but I was stooped and consumed. 
 

Ayn Rand over the mountains

Ayn Rand over the seas

Ayn Rand knew me not

Though her flesh enfolded me 
 

With empowered vision, she looked into my eyes.

With cold precision, she cast me aside

like a worn out car or coat thatís out of style.

She shrugged her shoulders and I was dissolved. 
 

She laid me in my coffin and nailed down the lid.

Now I lay and wait in silence with the ghosts of tycoons

in a vaulted mausoleum and hope that soon

sheíll approach the great brass doors and fling them open

to unite us once more. 
 

Iím traveling over mountains

Iím sailing over seas

Crossing a wide dark river

In a landaulet Mercedes



J. T. Brown

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