Green Falls

There is a place at terminus

where fallow fields unfurl.

Before your eyes, old railroad ties

and ancient billboards curl.

Green Falls! Green Falls!

For auto theft we’re known.

The grain mill roars and dollar stores

on ev’ry corner grow.

There is a place where rivers meet

beneath the roller dam.

Large tires tumble through, we cheer,

and in our mouths Tostitos cram.

There is a place along the drag.

Beneath the water tower.

We scrawl ‘Wash Me’ on the bumper dust,

By the glow of the caution light bower.

Green Falls! Green Falls!

Brings me back to another time.

Our only claim to national fame

in the annals of organized crime.

There is a place of certain fashion.

Most important is the hat.

Could be devilish, could be dashin’.

But I dunno ‘bout that.

There is a place with streets untended.

The potholes have their names.

Post office flag hangs unmended,

fluttering in the rain.

Green Falls! Green Falls!

We’re compelled to rent the jail.

A spirit prods our stoic hearts.

To thee, Green Falls! All hail!