Got tired of hearin’ same old calico rip--
Beating it on my favorite rock--
Twisting and tearin’
wearin’ it soiled anyway
rushing it to dry
Mindless mending and bending in denial
Of my sad-looking style.
Not s’posed to litter in the river,
But the river came to me.
My showboat pose, my griping—
my upheld nose for splintering judgment
Churned away under
left me bewildered-free.
I missed them for a while
Standing in water to my knees
Stretching out for what could be retrieved
And wonderin’ how to be
Without those garments of heaviness
holding in green algae.
But send all that old stuff on down the river
I got to get new ways
Send the old stuff on down
and hope it doesn’t get snagged on a tree branch
Oh well, what will that matter
When I can go sailin’ on by?
Rafted and crafted and makin’ for Glory
While the water’s high.
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