About a dozen or so years ago after returning from home a mole removal/biopsy procedure, I received a visitation from the muse of country music – let’s call her Twangella. The poem – as they say = wrote itself.

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Drunk me some wine with Jesus

at this here wedding in Galilee.

He saved the bestest for second

and provided it all for free.

So I quit my job on the shrimp boat

to follow him eternally.

No longer bound by them blue laws

enforced by the Pharisee.

And we had us some good times,

Till them Pharisee done him in.

Ain’t got no use for the religious right

After I seen what they done to him.

So when Saul/Paul stole the show

I just sorta drifted away,

Cause he never done quite understood

what Jesus was trying to say.

Paul was more like them Pharisee,

dissing this, cussing that,

giving the women a real hard time,

gay-bashing and all like that.

So I drink at home most nights now

trying to do some good,

offering the beggars a little snort

whilst praying for a robin hood.

Drunk me some wine with Jesus.

It was the bestest day I ever seen.

Drunk me some wine with Jesus,

partying with the Nazarene.

Jesus the wine-bibber, the whore’s buddy, a lot more uptight about money exchange than sins of the flesh. Actually doing a little jig in the Gospel of Thomas. A reformer. To hell with this harsh desert mentality, he preached. While he’s witnessing a throng preparing to stone an adulteress, half a world away in Tahiti naked girls with their parents’ blessings are chanting come-ons as they dance in a conga line past boys’ huts. Family values.