SEVENTH WEEK FRIDAY: LUNGING INTO SPLUNGE, MS AT THE BANQUET TABLE


EXCAVATIONS IN A BANQUET  ROOM

When asked was I ever in jail in Splunge MS

I found a bushel of gratitude at the irrelavancy

To the common good and never drew a breath

Before inviting balloon thoughts worth of tales

Into the salad course along with falling crumbs

Of wondering looks down that table soon fading

In the light of feedlot dawns, cottonfield blisters

Tales of seven day trips on mule-wagon cotton

Chuckles in entree serving cheap matinees

Drooping down regret holding communion

Over-filled glasses seeping away opinion

Of all the blue lost watches

And the found gold links.

MEMORIES CAN FREE US IF WE EXCHANGE THEM FREELY

WE MUST EXCHANGE THEM FOR OUR ASSUMPTIONS

WE MUST TRADE THEM FOR OUR DELUSIONS

WE MUST TRADE THEM FOR OUR REGRETS

WE MUST TRADE THEM WITH NO VALUE ADDED TAX

WE MUST TRADE THEM WITH NO EXPECTATION OF RETURN

WE MUST TRADE THEM WITHOUT A CHANGEPURSE

WE MUST TRADE THEM IN THE MARKETPLACE WITHOUT GATES

MEMORIES CAN FREE US WHEN WE FREE OTHERS.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                  
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