On her way to the Louisiana State Penitentiary, Sister Mary Aloysius 
Drove past many signs: Earthworms Here. Have Many Rabbit. Calicos 
In Burlap Sacks for Free. There were wooden crosses, some upsided 
                                                          From a weird wind of such flaccid heat
Through miles of nothing much—until a shrewd 
Of cottonmouths braided in a knot so vast 
Across the asphalt                                   She had to stop the car.
She waited as they wound and ragged and sieged their way across
The two-lane road, and then she traveled on.       
                                                                                                 For Sale:
Rafters of Slack Turkies. Nurse-Cow’s Pail. Push hoes, malt forks, unrusted 
Mangleknifes.       Here is the sheriff in his hammock on his clutter-land
Not quite yet woken from his dream of herding
                                                               All the Negroes out to anywhere 
But here. 
                              Sister Mary Aloysius carried in her pocketbook 
A blue transistor radio (with hymns, which lived inside) to the man