Soul Sounding Music
Lazily, disdaining up above the sky to pursue
As the setting of the sun is to indolent to hold
Such a tournament is lengthened and embedded in gold
While the sun passively darkens for a night barbecue
I sit beneath a silvery moon hearing barking hounds
for some men have orgies near the Genious of the South
with blood-shot eyes and sweet sugar caned-lips and scented mouths
such surprising sounds while making folk songs like soulful sounds.
Their music vibrates above pine trees made up like guitars
Strumming, picking and singing songs of endearments in vain
many are now caroling a vesber up to the stars.
Mighty singers, I hear resinous in your throaty of songs
they are heard so sacredly like a whisper within the pines
were they given to virgin lips and cornfield concubines
To hear dreams of Christ till I meet dusty cane-lipped bongs.
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