Thoughts and a Poem

Bemidji, MN--Sitting in a very hip cafe in downtown Bemidji, the “First City on the Mississippi”, which slogan clearly chosen for its assonance and alliteration rather than for its truthfulness or powerful enticement of outsiders (“First City” can mean three things: geographically first (by which def. Bemidji presumably chose said phrase); chronologically/historically first (probably NOLA but I actually don't know); and culturally/of importance (most probably a tie between NOLA and SLMO (St. Louis, not slo-mo, you N/neanderthals (I know it's “n” most of the time, but one must make sure of these things so as not to offend))--I think generally most of us would agree--nay, assume--the use and prevalence of the latter two meanings). But enough, editorially-slack Mac; return to business.

A POEM

I'm in this coffeeshop along
The banks of River great and strong;
My latte is a bit too bald
But better that than apt to scald.
I write this post in meter for
A reason which evades my mind
But never fear; I'm never more
Pretentious than a subtle shrine.

The tale of yesterday I will
Relate at present; but now still
I am recovering from such
A fright'ning day; it was too much.
Nay, nay! you say; continue on,
It can't have really been that bad.
I guess you're right--for here we don
A Cautious Cap; a lesson had.

I started out on River blue,
Then switched with Eve; at ten to two
We planned to meet at old Pine Point--
'Twas a decision made in joint.
Two came and went, then it was three
(These times, not people, as you know),
And Richard said that maybe we
Should worry if Eve didn't show.

I drove to where we'd last her seen
A good ways back, and in the mean-
Time Richard stayed, with phone in hand,
To call me should Beglarian land.
Eventually I get a ring:
It's Richard calling from the site!
Eve has been found at last, missing
The place--she could have gone all night.

She'd meant to row four miles hence;
But, having missed us, it made sense
To go a bit further along
Because the current wasn't strong.
At fourteen miles past the place
We'd planned to meet, she came ashore,
Flagged down a car with sprightly grace,
And R and I would wait no more.

And so a Super 8 we chose
As suitable for our repose;
For such a day, so long and glum,
Must be rewarded--so say some.
To dine we went to Applebee's
And beer was had--it wasn't tough
To sleep last night. Now if you please,
I think this poem's had enough.