Sonnet for Salvadore
Of Salvadore the Celery King I sing.
Illiterate in Lewiston, he'd wander,
so I'm told, into the ladies' john
and, barring ladies, not suspect a thing.
But when it came to celery, he was king.
And when he died, the Idaho Daily Sun
said: Salvadore the Celery King Moves On.
The celery hung its head, remembering.
Sometimes I think I'll wind down Lewiston Hill
(where winding up and winding down's the same
except for purpose), enter past the mill
and, turning to face the crowd, announce my name:
"Gary, son of Dom the son of Salvadore
the King, whose throne I've come to claim."
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Comments about this poem (Sonnet for Salvadore by Gary Miranda )
- Billboards, Tony Adah
- Lovely emergence, hasmukh amathalal
- Realize, my dear, gajanan mishra
- Should not mind, hasmukh amathalal
- Bridegroom to His Bride, Frank Avon
- What Is Life?, Abhishek Dubey
- Useless exercise, hasmukh amathalal
- Never letting, hasmukh amathalal
- Truth is in south, gajanan mishra
- Student, Paul Sebastian
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