My apologies for dropping the ball on the 31 Days in Seuss Challenge over the last week or so. I got busy and then had some internet issues at home. Anyway, I'm going to try to catch back up, starting where I left off. Here's Day 10:
My hometown sits on the Big Muddy bluff
It's rough and its tough and it hides lots of stuff
Some of it bad, like poverty and crime
But most of it good, and all of it mine.
It's the birthplaces of soul, home of the blues
Where The King first flashed us those sweet blue suede shoes
Where Johnny and Roy recorded at Sun
Where the lights stay on till the drinkin' is done
Where there's always been tension between whites and blacks
But where all that's just noise when the DJ plays Stax.
This city's a legend, and there ain't no mistaking
That Soulsville has always been slowly remaking
Itself into something more strange, more eclectic
Like some bourbon-soaked, barbecued, Southern-culture dialectic.
We've got the Arcade, the Lorraine, the Peabody
We learned from our neighbors how to make hotty-toddy's.
(And speaking of hot, we sure bring the heat
From March to November, sweat-glands will secrete
That sweet film of humid and oppressive heat
About which our speech can be quite indiscreet.)
We've also got Graceland and Gibson and Beale
And Bellevue mega-church's surreal mega-zeal.
In fact, we've got more churches than gas stations.
The only thing MORE numerous: temptation locations!
Like Wild Bill's, my personal favorite in town
Where the renowned getting-down is the best all around.
We're a city full of hustlers, no place for a wimp
(Every Memphian knows it's hard out there for a pimp!)
The Grizz, the Redbirds, the Tigers keep us cheering
And all of those tourists make room for profiteering.
We've got our fair share of loonies and quacks
(Hell, we even ELECT some of those hacks!)
But at the end of the day, there's no denying the facts
This is still a helluva place to relax
To kick back, to unpack, to talk a little smack
To locate that one thing that your soul somehow lacks
To relish in the unrefined and unclean,
To feel the sweet release of your spirit's dopamine
To know you're in a place where History was made
Forbade, surveyed, underpaid, disobeyed,
Weighed in the measure of a sweet serenade
Pervading the air where music is played
Night after night and day after day
In a city where no one's stay is overstayed.
I tried to leave Memphis, it wouldn't let me go.
It brought me back home to the home that I know
Where the good and the bad, in fact, do interwine.
But most of it's good, and all of it's mine.