Tell people that I’m finally
up to no good.
That I swallowed the Susquehanna
and marched the dry riverbed
toward Baltimore
for more.
Tell them the wrath of my path
was last spotted in the Tioga forests,
the tops of the pines left knotted together
as my own makeshift swing.
Say that I’m in Pittsburgh,
fixing all the bridges for fun,
one by one,
and the locals hate me for it.
Mention that they sent in the troops, the boots,
the calvary, the dogs, the guard, the heavy artillery,
the helicopters, the fighter jets, the feds,
and it broke my heart just the right way
when I learned they asked you where I’ve been
and you replied,
haven’t seen him, but boy howdy I do miss him.
If you liked that one you’ll probably like this one: You Are Not Worried About Any of This.
Word Slurpee 