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Shrimp 'n Grits

Clap-hat Spoleto

The following poem was first published a year ago as one in a series of related poems comprising the Swimp Mon Chronicles. With a few edits and additions to reflect current events, it’s the author’s contribution to the special poetry of Spoleto 2010.

Swimp Mon’s Clap-hat Spoleto

Lee Walton

It now ta be dat Spoleto time
When fairies dance ‘n poets rhyme.
Downton’ be fu’l wid’ dem hambon’ folk
Impressed by da mirror ‘n lots ‘o smoke.

De City, it be one big sho’,
All crafted by dat Swimp Mon Joe.
‘E git ‘e cronies ta f’un de pla’s
Fuh winks ‘n nods on udda’ days.

Dem Spoleto folk, ‘o how dey flitter
F’um Broad ta Market, jus’ fooled by glitter,
But da real trute be, dem arts dey founder
Fuh lack ‘o cash ‘n budgets sounder.

De f’uns dey jus’ ain’t cum no mo’
Ta pay de flute ‘n harp fuh Joe.
De big banks gwan in da latest crash,
‘N Swimp Mon’s chums be short on cash.

De ‘conomy, it be gittin’ wors’,
‘N folks, dey gots de small’a purse.
De stim’lis fun’s deys all bin spent,
‘N dat Obamba Mon’s don cum ‘n went.

Now dat Gail’lard, it bin gittin’ ol’
‘N Swimp Mon wan’ fix’um fo’ ‘e git cold.
‘E smooz dat Council, ‘n buy dem’own soul
Ta fun dat Gail’lard fix-up wid mo’ City gold.

It mak’ no mind dat de streets dey flood,
‘N de tide jis’ rise ‘n spread pluff-mud.
Swimp Mon don’ min’ wuh da folks da t’inkin,
‘E don’ gib da hoot if da City bin sinkin.

‘E say dey bin no tim’ ta wast’,
Cus’ ‘e kno’ dat vote mus’ be took ‘n haste.
Dat Swimp Mon tink ‘e sho’ bin cool,
But’s mos’ folk t’ink ‘e da world-class fool.

Spoleto alltime bin da fragile sho’
Dat need dem patron wid lots ‘o dough.
Wid’out big bucks, it jus’ can’t float,
‘N dis be git’in de Swimp Mon’s goat.

But it be one sho’ dat don’t cost ‘a ‘ting -
Be de Swimp Mon’s Council, dat’s paid ta sing.
De song dey crune be set ta verse,
Fuh thirty-plus years – de Swimp Mon’s curse!

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