Cornsilk mane atop his wiry frame,
laconic through
a Gainesville rose •
Southern accenting gravelly fountains,
trimmed with wine, or
lipped in nose •
Cigarettes packed cherries owing,
boxed up candied hearts
all a-glowin’ •
cracked onto squeezebox sides,
‘neath the dark light
of America snowin’ •
Sucked down next as three quarter
decks, memorized wrecks
taming states •
off temple, studied beats—
supplying summer’s thick, muddling heat:
“My babe, my babe,
come idea with me,” •
bare knocking we heeded to grow—
O hear a fender tap of that cherub-wing-cap,
choruses now with us
easy, braking slow •