Jon Corelis Poet Rhyme

Notes About The Poem

Image source:  https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:1842_DavyCrockett_CrockettAlmanac_byWCroome.png

Sort of a ballad

Davy Crockett’s
lost in the woods
with a pig in a poke
and a bill of goods;
he went out hunting
for the Cisco Kid
and ended up ashamed
of whatever he did.

        Baby, baby,
        beat my heart,
        snap its strings
        and make it smart;
        New York City’s
        floating in air:
        is it always this way
        everywhere?

Baby Face Nelson
and Abraham Lincoln
went into the bar
and came out stinkin’,
and Rip Van Winkle
has a new disguise:
a riverboat gambler
with a pack of lies.

        Mama, mama,
        lift my basket:
        looks like Chicago’s
        blown a gasket.
        All these people
        would be better off dead
        than trying to live
        on the devil’s bread.

There’s plague back east
and dust out west,
floods down south
and the north’s depressed;
the cargo’s vanished,
the wheels are gone:
this wagon’s broke
and we won’t see dawn.

        Father, father,
        shoot my wad,
        crack my whip
        and bust my sod:
        San Francisco
        fell into the sea,
        but nobody noticed
        except for me.


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