The Fat Kid's Medley - Day 5

(sestina)
How vast the pool of sirens’ song,  
In deepest channels, hidden shoals.  
The bottles’ waste in sought belong,  
The bleeding waste that sought my soul,  
No place of home that I can find.  
My mountains sold in canyons’ shine.  
 
Hotlanta, dazzled by your shine,  
Just like that Allman Brothers' song,  
I bore no hope in what I’d find.  
But how those days of Muscle Shoals  
Would sooth ignite my ruptured soul,  
The guitar wails of my I belong.  
 
Not in your schools or streets belong,  
Your concrete, steel, and reptile shine,  
That seems to want to reeve my soul.  
But music thrummed in verdant song,  
Like Chattahoochee’s gospel shoals  
That Sunday rise and Jesus find.  
 
Beer Drinkers and Hellraisers find,  
In smoke filled bars where I belong,  
In Whiskey River’s saintly shoals,  
Or in a Crazy Diamond’s Shine.  
In whiskey glass and guitar’s song,  
In Loner’s strains I saw my soul.  
 
Let Decade pass with Rubber Soul,  
Rock Lobster my one Sunday find,  
My mind in warp from just one song,  
Then with Police and Thieves belong.  
How bright the beer washed people shine,  
On moonlit thrift-store freakish shoals.  
 
The call of sweet Oconee shoals,  
In broken-chord vibrato soul,  
In 40 Watt dance tempo-ed shine.  
But years must suffer such a find,  
Before I’d feel such true belong,  
And dance in heat to weird kids’ songs.  
 
For weird kid’s soul screams its own song,  
Hot’lanta’s shine killed its belong,  
Hope drowned in shoals no one could find.  
 
5/30  
 
Words: 259  
Unique Words : 150  
 
#NaPoWriMo2019  
 
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