Donuts Only

Like a red state’s Baptist fervor
Like a small town’s unsolved murder
Some secrets are just best resting
In the tombs of buried thought-slums
As for Texas: Donuts Only
You cannot find bagels here
And I’ll reserve my highest hosannah’s
For the communion song that’s served with light beer
And a chorus
That inspires the score played in my myth-steeped years
«There's a hole you shan’t fall into»
Sang the church choir’s young male leads
In the home team jersey robes
Sewn by our sisters, moms and nieces
This you gave us, although worthless
Fed five decades' dormant hustle
In result: his life was rubbish
Celebrated? Yes, but rubbish