there is nothing like a southern rant
to turn you on your heels
to cause your gut to over boil and pant
we speak our mind with fervent zeal
it is not the heat it is the humidity
you hear it all summer long
but the moisture spares my timidity
and makes me very strong
for the dew brings the sprout
the grass and trees stay green
i think it best to let the flames out
than to keep the envy in between
gentility and decorum sleeps in my southern veins
cross not my social graces or try to overpower with your disdains
don't be confused by the softness or the sweet smell between my legs
i stand upon the pedestal directing those that beg
i will sop you up before i saucer my coffee unlike your ingenue
with the back of my hand you will catch the southern vapors
for fast and strong my feelings run just like the kudzu
you will feel like muddled mint in my afternoon julep or the toast under my capers
when calm and reason settles in your cerebral
there comes an understanding and reverence of the spirit chant
when you grow accustomed to this summer heat parable
you will understand the logic and the soul of the southern rant
