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Friday, September 28, 2018

"I am gone to the fair..." One Gone Boy's Ongoing Monograph on 'Going...Going..."

(Is my sorry ass outta here? Whatta you think?)


I am gone to the fair.
I am gone to the moon. 
Much like Vincent van Gogh, I am gone much too soon.  
(I am gone to the Congo with Margo and Mongo
and Santo Domingo with Mingo and Ringo.)

I'm gone and forgotten.
I’m gone with the wind. 
I am gone off the rails and I'm wholly chagrin'd.
(I am gone to Oswego with Pete, mi amigo.
I'm gone, too, to Togo with cineman Vigo.)  

I'm gone for a soldier,
gone out of my way, 
'cuz in 60-some seconds my car's gone away.
(I am gone to Chicago with Joachin Rodrigo.
To, too, former -slavia, Yugo-...with Hugo.) 

That pioneer Gone Girl,
Maud Gonne, had gone viral 
before she'd been seen gone to ground in the Tyrol.
(To Don's Mar-a-Lago I'm gone with Iago.
Skip Trinidad, prego! I'm gone to Tobago.) 

I'm long gone, gone missing -- gone quietly, too. 
I am gone off the deep end. (I'm gone West. Are you?)
(Cryin,' "Leggo my Eggo!" I'm gone with Diego.
I'm gone to play bingo with quolls and a dingo.) 

I'm goin' bananas.
I'm gone all the way. 
I am gone by tomorrow -- though not gone today.    
(I am gone to a Gogo with Albert and Pogo.
Permit me my ego: I fashion'd their logo.) 

I'm gone to Gondwana -- gone out on a limb 
with The Sting's Henry Gondorff. (You do recall him?)
I am gone to tell Rhody, my great-aunt from Goshen,
who, when she plays Go, always goes in slow motion. 

I am gone to the Golan with Magog and Gog.
I'm gone through the Gobi with Phileas Fogg.
I'm gone, too, to Goa -- that trip's quite the slog.
I am gone on about it all, here on my blog. 

Aboard -sauruses, Stego-, past sagebrush and sego,
I'm gone -- Pago Pago -- with Melville's Tashtego. 
(I'm gone on "The Gong Show" when only a child. 
I am gone in a gondola...twice...going wild!)

I do not go for Godot with Didi and Gogo.

I'm gone, though, to Gondar, Republic of Congo.
I'm gone there to oogle Godiva, a Virgo.
I'm gone Decartesian...with "Sum, ergo cogo."

Gone native, gone bankrupt, gone soft and gone glass.* 
And when gone to my final rest, I'm gone first class...
...cryin', "Go fly a kite, Gophers! Go fuck yourselves! 
Make sure Go Set a Watchman's long gone from your shelves!"
     * In basketball, said of a scorer who banks his shot 
off the hoop's glass backboard.

I am goin' down, Moses. I’m gone! Gone for good. 
(Who? Me? Go on a diet? I’m not – though I should.)  
What's not gone? Gonorrhea: each gonad's gone rotten. 
('Tis hard, gone too far, to know what one has gotten.)

G
one south and gone fishin,'
I’m gone for the gold. 
I am gone, in a handcart, to hell, so I’m told.  
I am gone to the dogs. I'm gone thither, gone yon. 
Just like George Gershwin’s Robbins, I’m gone, gone, gone...gone.



(Further departures being immanent, this work is perhaps 
best considered "gonegoing." Or perhaps not.)

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