Authored By billcolrus

The outlook wasn’t great for the river that day:

The water stood deep; all we could do was pray.

The mayor wished it gone, and the people the same,

But Casey’s rotting barge still somehow remained.

Yes, this latest development left folks in despair.

For it appeared, by the smell of it, it might always be there.

It seems a pump had been stolen by some nameless jerk,

And the pump that replaced it had somehow not worked.

So to the bottom, again, the barge dangled close,

So rusty and ugly and mangled and gross.

A beacon of failure, it shone near the shore,

Its ropes stretched for dear life from where it was moored.

“How will they move it?” the city now asked.

“Will it always be stuck there?” they wondered, aghast.

A frustrating vista from the Blue Plate to Olgiati,

Since Casey’s floating vision had gone down the potty.

His plans for the Choo-Choo once took it to the top,

But fate sadly pooh-poohed his plans for this spot.

Where dreams were once filled with cocktails and beef,

Now sank a nightmarish, unnatural reef.

While the Delta Queen left to cheers to be renovated,

The barge was left here, sad and dilapidated.

And we were left wondering about the rusting deathtrap:

Would somebody please move it or sell it for scrap?

And when the sun went down on Gig City’s coast,

Our tourist-filled showpiece, about which we boast,

One blight remained to make our PR machine pout,

Like prickers on progress-Casey’s barge still stuck out.

Former Chattanooga Pulse Editor Bill Colrus writes about (in no particular order) news, culture and media. You can find him on Facebook, follow him on Twitter or connect with him at billcolrus.com. The opinions expressed in this column belong solely to the author, not Nooga.com or its employees.