My firm resolve to tour that lovely area
Of the USA amusingly known as Jesusland
Was prompted by the lovely Jerry Springer Show
And the sophisticated guests I have seen thereon:
Who can forget those KKK wizards and fierce rednecks
Fighting to preserve their ancestral way of life?
Not I! And how I have longed to visit the Old South
To see its colonial mansions and graceful towns,
Albeit preferably behind bullet-proof glass.
And so I started off my epoch-making trip
In my pink reinforced steel stretched Jaguar limo,
(fitted out with a king-size bed and cocktail bar
the better to entertain any ladies I might meet,
whether in a tasteful bar on turnpike corner),
Accompanied by Big Butch Bill the Bastard,
My co-driver and well-armed security guard
(he slept in the trailer, since you dare to ask,
mainly because of his hideous bodily odours,
but also because I detest his piking sur moi).
Our first stop was lovely Lynchburg in Virginia,
A vibrant and modern city with a paltry
Eight gospel radio stations to its credit,
And venue of the not very liberal at all
Liberty University, where I was distressed
To find a tragic paucity of red light bars,
Thus obliging me to chat up a plump salesgirl
From the local Wal-Mart whose charms were soon revealed
After her free access to my onboard minibar;
Sadly our time together was abbreviated
When the Sheriff opened fire on my vehicle
For a very minor traffic violation;
Poor Marie-Lou sadly took the dozen bullets
And is unlikely to resume her job on the till.
My chauffeur drove us out of town tout vite
And I consoled myself with a champagne or two
As we sped through the sawn-off mountains and coalmines
Of despoiled West Virginia en route to Kentucky,
Justly famed for its fried chickens and military mien.
O, have you e'er been to delightful Dawson Springs,
Home of the Imperial Klan of America?
What a truly elegant town it really is!
And how fortunate I was to leave it alive,
After unwisely asking for a glass of wine
Instead of a bottle of bourbon in a downtown bar,
Where I had taken a rather nice young lady
Of my recent acquaintance for a pre-bed drink.
Sadly only one us of made it back to the limo,
And the rear window took a nasty peppering
From the barman's sawn-off pump action shotgun.
BLAM!!
Such was the depth of my sorely injured pride,
I was perhaps unable to appreciate
The immense urban beauty of Charlotte's suburbs,
That city of over seven hundred churches
And birth place of the late immortal Billy Graham.
Not only that, oh no, there is more to tell:
A brief dalliance with a dim drugstore waitress
Excited her so much she had a fatal heart attack
Which rather made a mess of the upholstery;
How is that tragedy dogs my every aventure erotique?
Furthermore I have to admit that Tuskegee (AL)
Left me slightly cold, despite its place in history
As the location of the famous syphilis tests,
In which caring sharing local experimenters
Denied penicillin to infected local guinea pigs
For over twenty years in order to ascertain
That absence of treatment led to their death.
And the absence of a decent restaurant
Obliged me to go on a diet for yet another day.
Our next overnight stop was Mobile on the Gulf
And here the hookers were as generous
With their favours as I was with my dollars,
And I found a new and highly erotic way
To eat a giant-size Mississippi Mud Pie,
Thanks to the initiative of a girl in a bar.
But again my intrepid driver and my humble self
Had to flee the city under police gunfire,
And just because I enquired all in innocence
Where the site of the last American lynching
Might be found, so I could take a digital snap
To show the Old Folks back at home in England.
YUM YUM!!---> 
<--- CALORIES!!
All good things must come to an end, it is said;
And my ground-breaking trip through the South
Came to a fitting end in old New Orleans
Where I managed to get myself a bit of French,
And learned the steamy secrets of the Cajun Kiss
From a remarkably talented young actress
Who could have removed your tonsils with one suck.
I shall never forget the smell of the sewers
In Basin Street, no wonder people got the blues.
Just as well I never made it to dear Texas
Or else I might have ended up on old Death Row,
Waiting for an appointment with a nice cocktail
Of injected fatal non-alcoholic drugs.
Adding your comment:
By the way, I liked the picture of that chocolate cake that says Yum Yum Calories. Mmmm.. I fancy chocolate cake 
another great write!
