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   XPost: alt.arts.poetry   
   From: will.dockery@gmail.com   
      
   Miss Crenshaw   
      
   Little Victoria   
   stepped on a bumblebee,   
   near the sawmill millhouse.   
      
   Cousin Maxwell   
   saw it while sitting in a tree,   
   on the hill   
   across from Uncle Grouse.   
      
   Near the house of   
   Bullethead & Shorty...   
   Always late, never home,   
   they's a fighting,   
   they'll get home the best they can.   
   With some luck and   
   a Southern wind.   
      
   Shorty's chasing Bullethead   
   with a frying pan   
   full of chicken bones.   
      
   Jerked wire   
   someone tried to call the cops   
   on the telephone.   
      
   Sort of in the backyard   
   of the old waterpump house.   
   Near the canepatch,   
   Miss Crenshaw's creeping like a mouse.   
      
   She said some odd words,   
   seen them spit right out her mouth.   
      
   Everybody's watching television,   
   or Miss Crenshaw's hipshake.   
   She's a stroller in technicolor   
   up and down a dirt avenue   
   for goodness sake.   
      
   If you need a girl   
   you can converse...   
   She's a good listener   
   and she ain't quite loud!   
   But a looker in a crowd.   
      
   On a two stooler bike,   
   somebody easing down the path.   
      
   Near the house of   
   Bullethead & Shorty...   
   Working late at the mill again.   
   Scoop the sugar with cabbage,   
   wash it down with cold gin.   
      
   Never sure when the morning starts   
   or where it ends.   
      
   I recall a bit later,   
   when she shook her peaches for me.   
   Shady silver leaf maples,   
   and a lonesome persimmon tree.   
      
   Full moon and hay fever   
   schoolhouse looking like a Sphinx.   
   She's a sweetie,   
   her hair's like a chestnut minx.   
      
   Everybody's watching television,   
   or Miss Crenshaw's hipshake.   
   She's a stroller   
   up and down a dirt avenue.   
      
   If you need a girl   
   you can converse...   
   She's a good listener   
   and she ain't quite loud!   
   But a looker in a crowd.   
      
   -Will Dockery   
      
      
   --   
   Music & poetry by Will Dockery:   
   http://www.reverbnation.com/willdockery   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)