about
Written in December 2012, the poem developed as a result my photographic study of the Mother Road, Route 66, that travels through Tulsa, Oklahoma.
During the time the City of Tulsa was working to reawaken interest in tourism along the road which runs east to west through the city along 11th Street.
The original road entered Tulsa City limits on Admiral Place, near the home of Cyrus Avery, who is known as the “Father of Route 66”, and continued west on Admiral to Lewis Avenue. That section of the road is where the imagery of this poem formulated.
Although efforts to make 11th Street more of a tourist attraction have succeeded, the original route remains largely the same as it was 10 years, another road that lies on the wrong side of Tulsa.
lyrics
the poem:
there's a great American flea market
at the traffic circle where Cy Avery's house used to be
there are land men selling empty tracts and overpriced aluminum shelters and one of these guys in the middle of his sales pitch he tells me the fucking Latinos Walmarts and fast food joints have taken over
better cast your fate to the wind i guess mister
the empty buildings churches discount outlets bus stops auto parts cheap hotels wheels tires affordable furniture Sonics Quiktrip's cemeteries ammunition cocked concealed carry classes
crematories plasma donations centers barbershops plywood windows
and brown people are here to stay
see the signs that say
for lease for rent for sale owner will carry say it all
the destination man is no longer here
whatever was is now something else
in the mercado parking lot
icy cries and outstretched hands
float away float away
like empty plastic bags
but i carry hope in my pocket
i carry high-security hope in my pocket
like it was a prayer concealed
i always wanted to buy Superman lunch
and a can man in coat with a big red s
takes my $5 and thanks me without teeth
this is where the lines blur
this road mister
it's where the lines blur
some people out here scuffle for a dollar
others hustle their ass for 200
but you can earn magic coins at the warehouse market
right next to George Kaiser's new apartments
and the dirty laundry mart
buildings are razed & rebuilt
whatever it takes to give people hope
or to part with some of their money
the can guy walks down the middle of the street
brushing away flies in the dead of the winter
talking to an imaginary cellphone
or an imaginary god says
hey Jimenez Santa Claus didn't make it down these streets here
didn't visit these houses these chimneys
Santa Claus did not make it down
the hard road where mistletoe grows
untouched on old oak trees
he says
why you want to be here anyway man
this ain't home this ain't no place to be
just an old road
fulla these signs these promising signs
promising coming soon coming soon
but ain't no neon here
ain't no star flowers blooming
no nothin
just a road that was
credits
from
A Prelude Of The Aftermath,
released May 14, 2022
Walt Kosty wrote and recited the words (poem). ASCAP-Studio Magnolia
Ralph Bendel wrote, arranged and performed the music (ASCAP-Studio Magnolia), using Banjo and synthesized organ. The Photograph by Walt Kosty is of the Gated old Route 66 bridge in Tulsa Oklahoma where it crosses the Arkansas River.
license
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