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Unstuck in Time with Kurt Vonnegut, Vol

Knoxville Knonsequiturs

Transfixed by the Drive to Work

A Safe, Well-Lighted Place

Short Takes


The Question

I-Sore on I-40

Knoxvillian Thoughts

Laurel Avenue

  What Knoxville Means to Me
I-Sore on I-40

by Alan Watkins

I fear that I shall never see
the dogwoods bloom in Tennessee.
The councilmen have had their say
they're building billboards in the way.

The company is moving in
to places where they've never been.
They're promising prosperity—
subversion's secret recipe.

"Select a site that all can see
cut down the trees for clarity
subdue the land's scenic appeal
fill the skyline with rusted steel."

So tri-vision's on its way!
3-for-1 is gonna pay!
It must've knocked their senses loose
to want to kill the golden goose.

The merchants here seem to forget,
or maybe they haven't learned yet.
So here is some advice for free:
let people see what they came to see.

They often wait all winter long
for warm weather to come along.
They often come from far and wide,
enjoy the peaceful countryside.

They may fulfill their hopes and dreams
of rolling hills and sparkling streams
but they won't part with hard-earned cash
to drive by junk and look at trash.

The signs we've got are an eyesore—
and now you want to put up more?
Across a land so lush and green
I find billboards downright obscene.