Week Twenty-Four: “Snowfall in April”

Goodbye my friend
I’m leaving Chicago
and headed on back
to where I come from
Where the women still blush
when they hear my name
and the sun beats upon you
like a tympani drum

I’m trading the train
for a vintage Camaro
and filled up my iPod
with Haggard and the King
I’ll hit the main drag
like returning Achilles
I wonder if Mary
still has my class ring

Back home where the stars are bright
and shootings are infrequent
and loneliness don’t haunt you
like Marley in chains
Where snowfall in April
is rare as an angel
and heartache don’t spread
like a fire on the plains

Goodbye my friend
the old days are calling
if you’d be so kind
as to forward my mail
I’ll get back my job
at the movie theater
and welcome my cousin
when she gets out of jail

I’ll never look back
on the lights of Chicago
I’ll never catch another
whiff of her hair
I’ll get me a son
and throw him a football
and teach him that
only medusas live there

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