A Month of Small-Town News to Gossip About

     This was one of my favorite practice poems for Poetry Writing homework. I was kind of aiming at a Garth Brooks-like story in tone with this villanelle, which I think I came close to. I wrote it based on a list of randomly-generated words: "Mandolins, Garth Brooks, basketball, rectangles, waffles, the Fourth of July and grief." It was written near midnight; thus joining the hypothetical poetry collection "2 AM Poems" the class joked about(since most of the homework was done at the last second).
     I don't like this title, if I revise this one I'll change it, but it started out without any title, and there would be at least a full month of gossip generated in this town.

It was right about the Fourth of July,

that night where Garth Brooks came to the nearby town,

when Chloe’s best friend died…

Our basketball town gathered to cry

at the funeral of one of our own;

It was right about Fourth of July.

With the condolences said, the rumors spread like

waffle syrup artificially dyed brown

when Chloe’s best friend died.

Casey’s mandolin left – his hands, strong and spry

wouldn’t play to celebrate graduation.

It was right about the Fourth of July

That wreck was discovered out by the junior high,

causing the sheriff and law to frown 

when Chloe’s best friend died.

They say he was callin’ Baton Rouge; she was never charged with a crime

while the thunder rolled and farmers’ wheat drowned.

It was right about the Fourth of July

when Chloe’s best friend died…