Where is Gitchee Gumee to be found?
Atascadero and Azusa both
I’ve been to, know exactly where they’re at.
But Gitchee Gumee? I would have to ride
A broken bus into a phony land
To even hope to have a clue where it
Is at. I guess its shining water hides
A trap for the unwary. Possibly
Beneath the water lurks the very worst
You can imagine: Shining blue-green teeth
That click in time to samba music scream,
“The line! The line! The line! Is fine! It’s mine!”
But Longfellow is out of fashion now.
The tranquil lake he wrote about is gone.
Polluted water breeds the canker sores
That line imagination’s weeping eyes
With putrid exhalations. And the waves
That rippled gently on his quiet lake
Are now malevolent, chaotic chimes
That clunk a drunken clarion of noise
That nothing is, and anything can be
Whatever anybody says it is.