Fables of the Reconstruction

Comet of the century,

Like Kohoutek,

But really kind of dim,

Just a squiggle in the night sky,

A rumor on maps and legends,

Speeding by, feeling gravity’s pull.

But Wendell Gee says,

Can’t get there from here,

Wendell who knows life and how to live it,

He also says, green grow the rushes,

Something he heard from Old Man Kensey,

Auctioneer and prognosticator,

Giver of good advice,

But such a bad driver,

Eight cars wrecked.

Now Kensey just rocks on the porch,

Waiting for Gee to stop by,

So they can lie to each other,

With their fables of the reconstruction.

Credit to R.E.M. for song names were used in this poem.

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