Pat Kennedy's Webpage!
Half a League, Half a League, Half a League onward,
Through the Negro streets dimly lit by the morning dusk
I shot Moses.
Dead on the street corner of anarchy and despair
That mass of calico heavy on the ground.
While leaves wet and damp with jazz scattered round
I shot Moses.
The gun in my hand trembling with fear
He looks like a dog,
Hobo hair frosted over. In the morning fog
I shot Moses.
A look surprised, like soon to be dead deer.
Bleeding on the green green grass
While a spring puddle shines trees stretching, and their buddings branch.
I shot Moses, I shall be released.
For Gone was the Mortal Ohio.
Gone the Leaves soggy molded on the frosty fall floor.
Gone was the snow, crisp and dry, Christmas only a few weeks more.
Gone was the slush recollections wet, and Christmas been long past.
For gone was the solemn silence of the school day’s morning fast.
Left lonely on that bus stop corner some 180 square butts and a patch of dry summer dirt.
This a personal narative I wrote called The man under the table.
This something I worte called Old and Young, I promise it gets better at the end.
A Photo Essay About Strongsville
Email: kenners_of_the_order_of_the_crimson_blade@hotmail.com
