Poem By ToddMichael St. Pierre

It's a half diff'rent world in the sufferin' south...
Like the snuff-stained lip of your Grandpappy's mouth!
There's Dinner-on-the-Grounds with Daddy Long-legs
Crawlin' up and down Miss Ducey's deviled eggs!
Though the hair-dos change and the century has turned,
There are flies unswatted and crosses unburned...
Foghorn-Leghorn preacher spews hate around-the-clock,
And all his prayerful hens seem spellbound by the cock.
'Sir, are you implyin'? Best wash that dirty mouth! '...
Try some soap for supper in your sufferin' south!
Hear the porch-swing slander: a mother-in-law tongue...
The homophobic germs are passed down to her young.
The buttermilk biscuits, the bloated home-town pride,
The sport of queer-bashin'... the gay-teen suicide.
But drunk/horny jocks know 'a-mouth-is-still-a-mouth'...
In the whole diff'rent world of my sufferin' south!

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