Meanwhile, in Alabama

A poem about Alabama.

Met a man riding down to Montgomery,
A silent type.
A Harley Davidson Wide Glide, 1985,
Did his talking,
The revolver that hang loosely in his hands,
Did the walking.
Unamused at the Parliament that judged in his mind,
His hand-wringing done of the Christ at his side
The well is filled with truth
And the pipes have gone dry
And I...

Watched him preach the word of God into a man's chest
The bullet tearing through to his wife who stood begging for
mercy,
Ripping apart the era of his life,
For forty-five bills and a swiss army knife
Pulling his guilt on the back of his Glide,
He waved me one of his courteous good byes
And sped down the road to Montgomery.