down to Lee County,
set up a storefront,
and shaped southern pine
to substance.
First to be last,
idolized a seventh,
He passed incognito,
lighting spliffs with the rabble,
in shopping cart gospel,
doling PB&J’s.
He learned a bit of Spanish,
and taught the farmhands’ kids math.
He sang baritone smooth to the
TAP-THU-WAP
of the pin-stuck drummers.
Funny man.
Pitiful man.
The company he keeps!
Who’s he trying to impress?
He wrote a sequel,
as ignored as His prequel.
He couldn’t even find a publisher.
Sawdust in His hair,
calm on His face,
He passed wrinkled
and unnoticed,
not worth a crucifixion.
He got a nice obituary,
but never a following.
The billboard congregation
missed their last best chance.