One Last Attraction in Orlando, Florida

by Ben Nardolilli

Apologies are in order Jack Kerouac,
I completely missed your house,
Forgetting that you too, have been here,
Obviously when the city was a town
And lay with the railroads,
When it was a small shrine to sunshine,
With orchards the closest thing to outlet malls.

Your final berth wrapped in wood
Before the outside world descended
To find you, the ink dredging voice
Of something lumped up into a generation,
Yes I missed it, and I had a free day too,
Disney and my parents did not own me
The entire time I was down in Orlando.

What did I do? I rode a boat with a fan
Over the lake and through the reeds,
We went to the streams and into nests,
Making spinach green alligators hiss at me
As they guarded dirty white eggs about to hatch,
With passengers from all around the world,
Looking for something to fill empty hours.

Your house is still there, and who can say
If you cared any more about it
Than any of the other homes you had?
Like a string of beads you amassed
Addresses to span the country sea to sea,
Like Edgar Allan Poe you let so many cities
Give you a chance to rest your feet and head.

And like Edgar Allan Poe, I hope
All those former abodes will be spread
Out as obstacles and frustrations
For developers across the land,
One day, people who never read your books
Will fight to preserve your homes
From being paved over by future highways.

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