Extra Gravy

As I love nature, as I love singing birds...I love thee, my friend. - Thoreau

a man on a musical mission

a chiroptera out of perdition

more than familiar with d-major and b-minor

his nickname the special with gravy at many a diner

in a backwards baseball cap and torn, food-stained tank top

the naysayers wrong that he'd be nothing but a flop

with a spare tire in the front and a low-riding fissure bringing up the rear

never judge a book by how its cover may appear

hair like a floor-mop

often mistaken for a pork chop

he drank thunderbird wine and old grandad from paper cups

riding the downs as well as the ups

his voice virile and strong

damn, he sure could belt out a song

Author's Note

"Was awakened in the night to a strain of music dying away, - passing travellers singing. My being was so expanded and infinitely and divinely related for a brief season that I saw how unexhausted, how almost wholly unimproved, was man's capacity for a divine life. When I remembered what a narrow and finite life I should anon awake to!" - Thoreau