the furious sound of steel guitar
sliding along a lonesome Virginian highway
en route to the pining country of 1932
resonates amongst the chicken and chitlins
but ten gallons of corn liquor poured from that white hat
fail to irrigate the dust bowl
on black nights in the bible belt
mice and mensches kneel at prayer
hiding from the lonely hunter
only the mailman has guaranteed income
knocking at the door to my heart just once
with his parcel of chauffeur driven blues
Julian Isaacs
.