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POEM: In The Hall Of The Mountain King

In The Hall Of The Mountain King

In the hall of the mountain king
the radio plays Bing Crosby on a loop.
The king sits in his La-Z-Boy,
breathing in slowly so he can watch
the bowl of his pipe rekindle.
He buys his tobacco down in the valley
from a kid too young to understand
the wooden statue of the Indian outside the store.
The king goes to get it himself;
you can’t trust a lackey with your special blend.
As the smoke curls toward the distant ceiling,
the king knows all is right in his kingdom.
Bing sings: “Where the blue of the night /
meets the gold of the day / someone waits for me.”

/ / /

3 December 2024
Charlottesville VA

Published in Jazz Music My poems Poetry

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