JC's A Good Ole Boy

Jesus is from the south of the United States

Or at least that’s where I hear his heart is these days

When we see him for the first time

His outstretched hands will be dangling with emeralds, rubies and sapphires

In his right ear lobe will be a 1/2 carat diamond earring and in his left

Well there will be no earring in his left lobe

But around his neck will be a diamond cross

Which would retail at J.C. Penney's for well over $4500.00

Around his waist will be a solid gold belt

And on the buckle will simply be the initials J.C.

           

From the characterizations I have heard of him

I suspect Jesus will be tone deaf, when it comes to the arts

Rather he will be a collector of Elvis memorabilia

A card-toting member of the NRA

And he will bowl Monday and Thursday nights

In two different leagues

He will be very soft around the middle from a lack of exercise

Not from the consumption of beer

His only vice will be the occasional glass of wine, for medicinal purposes

Jesus will drive an Eldorado with bull horns as the hood ornament

His front license plate will be a rebel flag

On his back bumper the confederate flag will appear again

And beside it will be the words, Heritage not Hate

The wonderful lord Jesus Christ will be partial to boiled peanuts from roadside stands

And my god, will he ever be able to put away the vittles

His favorite Sunday dinner will be crispy fried chicken

With black-eyed peas, creamed potatoes, corn bread and a glass of sweet ice tea

Jesus will have quit high school in the eleventh grade to help work in the fields

But he will have obtained his G.E.D. at night

He will not be the smartest as far as book sense

But he will be eat up with common sense

Give him a broke plough and he will have it back together and sharp as a razor within a few hours

Jesus will have the expected scars in his hands, head, feet and side

Where he had the run in with the Romans

But he will also have this mysterious scar across his cheek

That no one can ever remember hearing him talk about

Rumor being he got it in a knife fight at a night spot just outside Gethsemane

I suspect he will have absolutely no patience with anybody

Not willing to work hard for an honest wage

He will be registered a Democrat

But the last Democratic presidential candidate he will have voted for would be Jimmy Carter

Allowing how the Democrats have just "strayed too far from the scriptures"

 

Instead of sandals, he will have picked him up a nice pair of snake-skin boots at Sam's Wholesale Club

And hanging around his rear view mirror will be a St. Christopher medallion

And a pair of dice he got as a souvenir from a riverboat casino

In other words, you have probably already met him

If you live anywhere in the U.S. South

You just might not have known it was him

Cause Jesus is a good ole boy that likes to go along to get along

And the last thing he wants to do is bring attention to his self

Trans- hyper- rationality

I call it trans-rationality

Or hyper-rationality

For example

Say people you love

Are no longer around

What do you do?

Groan and moan?

Seek to stay in touch?

Die yourself?

Feel awful?

Depressed?

OR

Do you hold

Their essence

In your soul

Like an avocado pit

Or seed of peach

And draw new life

From their memory?

If you like

Call it your own

This...

Trans-hyper-rationality

I’ll leave this world

Owing and owning nothing

Truck beds are for fish, dogs, or dry wall

There is no way to slow time

The father of us all

Absent father at that

Siring little bastards from sea to shining sea. 

Even words vacuumed from pages

Into this swirling orifice

Smaller and smaller

'Til too many and too small to read. 

People have tried everything from Retin-A to Rogaine

To a mixture of Vodka and Valium

Ponce de Leon or was it Vasco de Gama

Searched for the fountain of youth. 

Then there's alcohol - fountain of age

But at least you can taste it going down

What an asshole he must have been

But no more perhaps than other entrepreneurs. 

Speculating and not finding

But continuing the crusade

Until the queen's money was spent

Underestimating how universal the laws of time are. 

He was playing with fire

No with the sun

There is not a law for those who drink A

And another for those who drink B.

There’s one for us all

So drink up- and shut up

           

He clutched the flowers to his chest

Imagining it all to be different

She had not gone restless and found her way to Florida

Necessity had not demanded she sell her body.

And the man who had just called

Had not told him she was dead in his arms

Yes and JFK was back in Camelot

RFK still catching his passes.

The good old paternal order of America

Was still blowing up Marilyn Monroe's skirt

And MLK was peacefully resisting

In the Lorraine Motel.

That sort of thinking was good

For a few minutes, or even hours

But as the effect wears off

You’re scratching six inches from your head. 

When Roosevelt died in Georgia

A slow train had brought him back north

And thousands lined the tracks

Gloria would come north in a box.

A box provided by the great state of Florida

In the bed of a late-model Ford pickup

Truck beds are for fish, dogs, or dry wall

Not for daughters.

           

His little girl, the blonde

Had talked of being president one day.

Talked openly of her ambition

The straight As all through high school

Might as well have been Ds or Fs

This message to parents everywhere:

A does not mean always

It might just mean afterthought

Asshole for believing the myth

Or maybe afterlife.

What would they do with the videotapes? 

Squander the film like it was another life?

Why not, you only live twice

Once for real and once on your loved ones' VCR. 

Easter dresses and Halloween faces

Marching to Pomp and Circumstance

What a cruel joke, the camcorder had been

They should cast it in the sea of forgetfulness.  

You never watch what is captured

And if you do, those you love stare into the camera and mock

Like washing your hair at grandmas

Seeing your big nose in her Delta faucet. 

No video cameras show up in Funeral Homes

Death shows its credentials at the door

No subterfuge or false hope or preening for the camera 

No green shaving cream turning foamy white.

Go down Gloria, down by the river Jordan

And be baptized with John and the other disciples. 

Take flight little dove and light on the shoulder of Jesus

My daughter in whom I am well pleased

Before I forget all the scripture

I have ever read and believed - be gone. 

Crank up the old Duster and glide into the southern heat

Not looking back - the way you did not before

Call me with the little calling card

We bought you at Wal-Mart when you get halfway there. 

And then again when you get there

And dial it direct

Let it ring twice

And we'll know it's you and not a telemarketer.

Here take this testament

And this sack of half dollars with you

Use them if you get lost or better yet

Turn around any time and drive back home. 

No one ever seems to die

On the way to see the family doctor

You died on the way to a heart specialist

My darling, it must have been your time.