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Poets
Fried Pies
gurdonark
Date:
January 29, 2006 @ 7:45 AM
Fried Pies
In downtown Gainesville,
right there on Main Street,
they sell fried pies,
closed on Sunday.
They used to have a circus here,
acrobats and clowns,
revels and feats,
closed on Sunday.
Thirteen decades ago they hung 40 blackland
farmers,
who did not want to kill other men,
but just wanted to work their farms six days,
closed on Sunday.
In downtown Gainesville,
surrounded by horse farms owned by dead men's
descendants,
they sell fried pies,
closed on Sunday.
originally published in
http://www.prairiepoetry.org
Eventually I'd like to turn this into a song, or
have someone else do so.
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