28th March 2004, late evening | Comments (20)
Tucson, Arizona, USA ~ April, 2002.
Two little poems I wrote when in Tucson. Very much in jest.
Arizona, to a moaner
Is a dream come true
For the locals and the yokels
Will irri-tate you
But the climate if you time it right
Will just about do
In this funny little town they call Tucson.
In the desert you will find
Folks are apt to lose their mind
Drive a pickup truck and spit before they speak
You’ll see men who drink all day
Name their youngest daughters Ray
And think that all things English are antique
Now it will come to your attention
That these people I have mentioned
Are not signs of evolution at its peak
And it’s true that here reside
Men whose sisters are their brides
And who barely clean their teeth from week to week.
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