The Folly of Living on Folly
With apologies to DuBose Heyward and George Gershwin[1]
Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind,
In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined.
Tennyson, “The Lotos-eaters”
Summertime,
And the living is queasy,
Traffic’s stalled,
And the rent’s sky high.
Our landlord’s rich
And constantly bitching,
So, c’mon, sweet baby,
Let’s stiff the bitch and fly.
Up ‘26,
there’s the hipster haven of Ashville
with its majestic mountains
‘neath a blue Carolina sky.
But come to think of it,
We’re pretty awful lazy.
So, never mind, sweet baby,
We’ll stay right here and get high.
[1] Gershwin wrote the song “Summertime” on Folly Beach.
Yes, he most definitely did, didn’t he. And he learned how to rhyme first hand-watching his mom recite Gullah for nickels and dimes in an attempt to save her estate. You could say she was the Scarlett O’hara of the South 🙂 Happy Friday, buddy.
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