Prairie Poetry   
  Fried Pies
   
 

In downtown Gainesville,
right there on Main Street,
they sell fried pies,
closed on Sunday.

They used to have a circus here,
acrobats and clowns,
revels and feats,
closed on Sunday.

Thirteen decades ago they hung 40 blackland farmers,
who did not want to kill other men,
but just wanted to work their farms six days,
closed on Sunday.

In downtown Gainesville,
surrounded by horse farms owned by dead men's descendants,
they sell fried pies,
closed on Sunday.

 
   
  Robert H. Nunnally, Jr.
   
  Copyright © 2005 Robert H. Nunnally, Jr.
   
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