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Like a red state's |
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Baptist fervor. |
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Like a small town's unsolved murder. |
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Some secrets are just best resting in the tombs of buried thought-slums. |
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As for Texas: donuts only - you cannot find bagels here. |
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And I'll reserve my highest |
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Hosannas For the communion song that served with light beer, |
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And a chorus that inspires the score played in my myth-steeped years. "There's a hole you shan't fall into," |
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Sang the church choir's young male leeds, |
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In our home team's jersey robes sewn by our sisters, moms and nieces. |
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This you gave us, although worthless, fed five decades' dormant hustle. |
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In result, his life was rubbish. |
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Celebrated? |
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Yes, but rubbish. |
