Country Boy
Jack M. Freedman
Tapping in his Tony Lamas
Wiggling in his Wranglers
Stimulating in his Stetson
The wind propels him
Twisting and spinning
As the guitar strums
He is a centrifuge
Defying gravity
Never succumbing
To earthly limitations
This cowboy soars
Grabbing his belt buckle
As if launching himself
Into the atmosphere
Propelled in alignment
Embraced by acoustics
Born in the USA
Stature of the
Colossus of Rhodes
Love child of deities
Product of divinity birthed
As if Icarus and Terpsichore
Conceived him
As he glides across dancefloors
He could make himself
Levitate in midair
Knowing full well
He was born to fly
