"Does anyone still want to go with me into a panorama?"
The sun floats down river
Resting from a long day.
As Banvard draws love
Birds in the sand.
She tries to explain
How his deformity angers her.
Unable, she leaves him
On the other side of the shore.
Banvard becomes a traveling salesman,
A campfire fiddler,
A drunk, a painter of shores.
Yearning for her—
He turns her into the Mississippi shore.
Riding the long river, floating
On a brush, he paints her portrait.
Huge bolts of love
The canvas sags from longing
Immense wood contraption
(Gears-pulleys crank machinery)
Three miles of canvas.
An uninterrupted portrait.
The papers publish the spectacle
"The hunch back painter and his panorama!"
He builds a wooden stage
Winds up river then down.
The lines are long, (.50 cents.)
They wait for hours . . .
He sits in the middle
Of hungry brush stroke
Down. Up river down
To find her.
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