I dared to like the Stones.
I first glimpsed that fat red tongue
on a sticker on the bumper of a
blue-finned Bel Air loudly defying
the command of a big-city red light.
The Stones: they drank me like wine.
But is that where you teeter?
Didn’t you sing Born On The Bayou
with a cheap radio tucked to your hip
as you steered the rusty red Reo,
chooglin’ down a silty harvest track
at sundown, to town, to the old silo?
CCR: you drank them like wine.
Aug 1, 2011