Wilma submitted poems to Dry Crik Review on her typical scraps of paper most of which I published. One, however, I did not publish because I could not decipher one word in the poem from her handwriting. I scanned it to Betty Blanks, who has recently authored a book “Pick Up Your Pen And Write: The Life of Wilma Elizabeth McDaniel” http://wilmaelizabethmcdaniel.com, to help me out. The word was ‘ping’. Til now, this amusing poem has never seen the light of day.
FAKE FORTY-NINER
We knew Ardell
had been acting crazy
for weeks
he grew a beard
stalked around
muttering to himself
I gotta go now
to Jackass Hill
to Poker Flat
and Angels Camp
I gotta pan some gold
race me some frogs
kiss me some CanCan girls
I really gotta go
He drove away in his Pinto
with the ping
towards the motherlode
on Golden Chain Highway 49
We didn’t hear from him
until his bonanza petered out
he phoned collect
the Pinto gave up in Jamestown
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