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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.
 

 

 

  March  2004

 

Out-of-Town Ideas



Everyone hated me and my dad

Because of his out-of-town ideas.

 

Too many things tacked onto the back of the house,

Hand built patio with a corrugated fiberglass awning,

That pretentious cast iron eagle at the front door

And glass panels so you could see dad’s living room.

There was one too many pieces of African art, just one.

Too much Herman Miller and Charles Ames furniture

A collection of expensive items all given to him because

His business was designing the look of business.

 

Every year our picture window became a Jesus scene

White paint and blue cellophane, wise men following

The stainless steel star of commercial enterprise. 

Dad always won first prize for his door decorations .

I got the door prize, a black eye from some of the kids,

They took up a collection when things got too out-of-town.

 

Weird, people thought, soup and sardines for supper?

No one was that poor, not in that neighborhood, well,

I knew one lady who owned no furniture at all, but she

Always had plenty to eat. The only tree out front of our

House was skinny as a flag pole, a pine tuft at the top.

We transplanted pines from the woods, even a maple,

Laid down odd looking stones from a nearby creek.

 

I got beat up all the time because things we did could

Only mean my dad was from a long ways out of town.

Why else would he sit on top of his car at ball games?

Waiting to pick up me and my friends, he made sure we 

Could see where he was parked. One kid said,  “My dad

Wouldn’t have the nerve to sit on top of the car. Your

Dad’s really cool!.” So that’s how I always think of him.

Sitting there like a high mogul of the grand panjandrum.

 



Copyright Jimmy Warner, 2011

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