Quo Vadis, the movie, the score, the soundtrack--
a 45 rpm played on a low-tech turntable,
one-half step above a windup Victrola . . .
Ah, my first hearing of the mystery of the symphonic!
There was a world larger than Lightning Hopkins,
Muddy Waters, and Minnie Pearl.
Quo Vadis, how deeply melancholy,
the perfect harmony for my dark-woods mood--
(all the world's a funeral parlor
beneath the facade of blue skies and
cotton candy clouds).
O Rome! How I longed for you,
I, a boy in rags, run-over shoes, crusty knees,
ashen skin and growling stomach.
O Arkansas! Cradle of my ignorance,
I ruled your woods, and valleys, and hills.
I, clown-prince, adorned with wooly hair
and clothed with the robe of Africa.
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