Tom Lyford has original poetry books and memoirs for sale on-line, and offers poetry readings and workshops in northern New England...
  • Home
    • MISSION STATEMENT
    • MISSION RESTATEMENT
    • LIJAH
  • Hometown D-F
    • Dover-Foxcroft: the BORING FACTS yadda yadda
    • D-F IMAGES
    • DOVER-FOXCROFT...?
  • Poems
    • D-F POEMS >
      • THE ARRIVAL
      • FIRE AND ICE
      • GOOD OL BOYS
      • MASONRY
      • MERRICK SQUARE MARKET
      • PLEASANT STREET ELEMENTARY
      • THERE GOES THE NEIGHBORHOOD
      • THE PLEASANT STREET PHANTOM
      • MASONRY
    • CEREBRAL SIMILES >
      • EASTER PARADE
      • ALTERED STATES
      • TELEPHONE POLES
      • GOODBYE YELLOW BRICK ROAD
      • MEMPHIS BELLE
      • THIS BODY?
      • THE BIG CHILL
    • JUKEBOX POETRY >
      • 102.5
      • INVITATION TO THE BLUES
      • JUKE BOX JOHNNY
      • REQUIEM
      • SPELLBOUND
      • WOLFEN
    • RUMINATIONS >
      • 3RD ROCK
      • I ROBOT
      • ORIENTATION
      • THE RIGHT STUFF
      • VECTOR ANALYSIS
    • NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE, TOTO >
      • EARTH VS THE FLYING SAUCERS!!!
      • WITNESS PROTECTION COUNTY
      • TWO-HEADED MAN RUNS FOR MAYOR
      • THE STING
    • TRIBUTES >
      • TO LEONARD...
      • MR. SALINGER...
      • MIXIN' UP THE MEDICINE
      • RIDING AROUND IN STEPHEN KING
  • Prose
    • Man on the Flying Trapeze
  • Bio
  • Reviews
    • NO DAFFODILS REVIEW
    • PLAYING WITH FIRE
    • PLAYING WITH FIRE (Writer's Digest Self-Published Book Awards Commentary)
    • MY CINEMA PARADISO
    • KILROY WAS HERE and WORK AVERSION TRAUMA double-review
    • AMERICANA REVIEW
    • PLEASANT STREET REVIEW
  • Events
  • Influences
    • LITERARY
    • MOTIVATIONAL
    • BIZARRO
  • eMail
  • Buy
  • A / V
    • Video Catalogue
    • Audio
  • BLOG
  • Platonic Cave

MEMPHIS BELLE

Picture

Head in the Hollywood clouds,
my wet-behind-the-ears license in
wallet, I taxi the old Pontiac down
the driveway and lumber out onto
Pleasant Street… fondling the stick,
and then gunning that Flying Fortress
up to speed, and droning off into a
wild blue yonder on the tiny tailwind
of my little one-windsock-town life,

flying my freelance recon missions…
deftly yawing to the right of
those evenly spaced yellow
‘tracers’ zinging back at me
up the middle of my personal
highway to hell and back, the
soul-jarring thunder-flak of
the potholes jarring the
warbird’s underbelly… 

and then barnstorming
the wide sweeping curve
to that truss-bridge target
way-the-hell-and-gone
down there at the bottom of
the valley and then buzz-cutting 
straight through it, scrambling
all those Nazi pigeons
from here to eternity...

Dover-Foxcroft's Rogue Poet Laureate since... well, OK... only 2010