Sunday, December 6, 2020

poem: on a summer day

by horace p sternwall

as i was dozing peacefully
on a lazy summer day
st peter pulled up in a pumpkin
and asked me to cleveland the way

i do not know about cleveland
i answered with a shrug
chicago is just down the road apiece
but is filled with ugly mugs

i know nothing about chicago
the saint cried with alarm
but i must find lawyer jefferson
because pa has sold the farm

pa has sold the farm, he repeated
and a tear fell from his eye
where st augustine and i were lads
in the sweet bye and bye

that is unfortunate, i told him
and managed not to grin
but such things happen every day
in this fallen world of sin

i wish i had a drink, he sighed
of whiskey, beer, or gin
his white beard waved as he pulled away
and i never saw him again

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