Fly Over State Poet


The Librarian
Poet Laureate
The Artist
The Pianist
The Historian
The Boy Who Barked
Athens of the Midwest

The Librarian

The dayz of being—
A queeny reclusive
Librarian are zip

No more fantasies—
Being Miss Havisham
In the WAW Library

Elsie Pine gave—
Me the book award
And a little advice

Being a poet
In Kansas is the
Quickest way to Nowhere

When she died she—
Gave $1 million bucks
To the Library fund

Poet Laureate

Denise Low became a

Kansas Poet Laureate
From lovely Emporia

Growing up there—
She had Mrs. Sullivan
For English at EHS

But spreading the—
Gospel of the Prairie
Muse across Kansas

Giving readings in—
Topeka & Dodge City
And there in Olpe

Just wasn’t my—
Idea of Bona Fortuna
Fly Over State Poet

The Artist

Give me a break—
The Flyover State
Doesn’t give a damn

Who cares about—
Whitman’s tan-faced
Pretty Prairie Boyz?

Stark spectral—
Gothic Americana
Prefers Nothingness

Limestone fenceposts—
Stauffer’s lonely pylons
Like gaunt tombstones

Welcome to Emporia—
A good place to die
And wither away

The Pianist

Such strong hands—
Vernon Sheffield has
My mother once said

Pounding away—
At piano polonaises
Chopin in Plumb Hall

If she only knew—
Just how strong his hands
Really were, my dear!!!

I met him in the—
Sunken Garden next to
Ghostly Norton Hall

I was Alma then—
In “Summer and Smoke”
Vernon a traveling salesman

The Historian

Weird Mr. Mosher—

Ensconced down there
In the Basement

The Lyon County Museum—
Full of artifacts stored in
The Civic Auditorium

Before they moved—
Them across Sixth Ave
To the Carnegie Library

I helped him give—
Tours there to traveling
Bands of school kids

The glass cabinets—
Full of Civil War stuff
G. A. R. memorabilia

The Boy Who Barked

Mosher’s young son—
A gimpy harelipped
Local spastic retard kid

Standing on the corner—
Waiting for the lights on
Commercial to change

He’d bark like a dog—
If you stared at him
Startling the shoppers

He had a job—
Stacking pop bottles
At Reeble’s South

Just another—
Strange inhabitant
In weird Emporia

Athens of the Midwest

Two little Cowtown colleges—
Stuck out there in the Plains
KSTC & the College of Emporia

A Santa Fe Railroad—
Running through the joint
Shipping cattle to Kansas City

The Anderson Feed Lots—
Giving the lovely community
The Sweet Aroma of Cowshit

How could anyone be so—
Hoity-toity to call such a town
The Athens of the Midwest?

With that Ode de Colone odor—
That Cow Patty plopped smell
Pervading one’s curled Nostrils?

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