Mississippi perdition beyond Benjy's fury.
Waning days of summer vacation, blinking past.
A need for Oxford welled in my bones,
So a road trip ensued while OPEC laughed.
What makes a state but its people?
The landmarks, the history, the smell
Is not the tipping point of its essence.
The 'pians I met took me back, too far.
Roadhouse tavern had gallons of beer
Cheaper than motor fuel, and a barmaid
Holding Helen's beauty captive behind
Eyes like twinkling binary nirvana bound.
Offset by that bastard cousin hate,
Reared in realtree camo, uttered drunkenly,
"That nigger thinks he's a White man."
Man's damnation, the vilification of his brother.