And sometimes my hillbilly voice comes out a sonnet

At the Purina Co-Op

Cornbread eatin', y'all--good and tired--just cain't
Quarrel--hillbilly in here havin'
Hoosegow, rotgut fire,
Confounded by cipherin'--burnin' up

Bacon pigs barn--lordy lordy lordy,
That mud-ignorant liar yonder, they're
Gonna be shootin' him before the mules.
No plug-nickel sam-hell, buffalo gals

Left, jiggly like that'un. Sit a spell--
Whiskey Road, off Poker Creek--pudneer there.
I tell you, boy, watchin' ain't real work but
More than my dogs is tired of walkin'.

Them salesmen chew caught hospitality
Then skedaddle out before the fussin'.