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Poem

He stood on the corner
Every day save Sunday
The corner of 14th and Main
Not one darned thing could
Deter him--not even the rain
He spoke to the masses
To whomever would come
His knowledge was awesome
Nearly Godlike to some
But he preached not of Jesus
Nor Mohammed and such
Whatever his subject
His voice was too much
Folks plugged up their ears
And remained for his zeal
They were mesmerized daily
He possessed mass appeal
So they dubbed him old 'yeller'
No other name would do
His voice was like thunder
Too loud, it was true
But they came to that corner
Each day, rain or shine
And they could hear old 'yeller'
From the back of the line

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