THe death of jackson kimbrough left very few words
He said if that pain still hurts  on into the morning
all you gotta do is spend the rest night drinking
the hurt will only disappear for just a little moment
so don't give a ****, and **** all the hatred
we are only but marters trapped somewhere inside
we cannot be afraid to be lost in the sea
something in-between all the lost hopes and
all the dreams that he has let slip away.
a lll you need is someone to show you how to run
run straight to this island of lost mysteries

The death of jackson kimbrough was a very sad day
people from all around came to witness this mans faith
he was one in himself and everything left to chance
he was always left dreaming, dreaming into night
He always said to just open your mind
keep on dreaming and you'll be just fine

jackson kimbrough had very few friends
he was somewhere lost falling like a leave
while this sky treats him like a detainee
The man kept to himself but that was just fine
everything he did was just to be a little kind
a child of the 60's, forever in time
just looking for a second chance,
and the gravity keeps tossing him around
you can't never gonna stop

Our thoughts of time travel
burnt-up when Junior
sang The Blues.

Foreign creature.
***** voodoo muppet.

His spaniel’s moan,
a call to mud,
digging deep like
“woo-woo-woo”

Smacking the past in the chin,
he dipped a laden lead melon
in a barrel of black molasses.
A slow lowering,
tender sinew slackened.
Unclawed-
the orb traversed his finger tips
nicking his nails on the way earthward.
The black drink parts then
floods back where it once was,
coating the cold round load
as it sank down below
the Mason-Dixon line.

Junior gurgled in slow-mo
dipped his Gibson
and stirred the stew,
made the black brew dribble over
the barrel’s shoulders
and puddle in the thick sticky
corners and cracks of
the Juke’s oak planks.

He fished it out then
-bladaplowplow-
-WHAP!!-
split that melon in half,
no knife, they used the trap,
then Junior took his break
to take a nap
in Baton Rouge.

a sky of caring
a rabbit foot on a chain

two 6 packs
3 friends

take me back to the river
by the railroad tracks

and shelly
and keats
and junior kimbrough

take me back
to the river by the railroad tracks

and the flat pennies we held
in the palms of our hearts


fall
is a forgiving season

so take me back to the river by the tracks

where the river runs
deep
and wide
and the memories have souls