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On the Lake

 

The blue water, cobalt, flat, ascending

toward Michigan carried James in his craft

toward Dan Cody's wild west showboat; water

as temperate as cornfields ripening

toward horizons, everywhere Illinois.

No undulating crabgrass squatting thick

in the midst of golden ears, golden eyes.

No mountains &emdash; only this ascending lake

carrying James toward the white clouds, the white

home where, in the corpulent East, Gatsby

goes home to blue lawns, horrid roses, and

dreams of green water, everywhere, water

rising like the red tides of Egypt, like

the sewn cloth of a new country, spreading

like corn, like the lake, like awakening

from a cold and empty dream of plenty.

 

-- by Paul Totah 7/10/97

 

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