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.