Union Blue--a very personal, underground song

   
   "Union Blue--a very personal, underground song"   
   
   Mercury delivery--me--not a garden-variety mortal, yet an organic form of man, John Barleycorning my nightshade after laboring at the local newspaper, regally rising from a pimple-faced paperboy to a merciful manager with a shaggy goatee and creeping out all the pseudo-ladies.   Anyway, my Country Boss told me:  "Boy--there ain't nothing better than walking barefoot on a plantation of naked titties."  Ahem--here's the ditty--total writing time:  1 minute and 39 seconds.
   
Slinging papers under crescent moon glow,
Down in the South sending insight to the crow;
I came across a coyote laying dead on the road,
Took a look'n at his spirit and my shy did erode--
Talking to the ladies with couth in my glass--
No greedy hand-grabbing but glances at the ass--
Adore the pubs and every domestic bar
That tolerates with love my Yankee bizarre.