This brief poetic statement speaks volumes about the dangers of
alcohol.
Ask The Smart Guy
Who is the most
famous poet in the world?
Poetry
sucks for the most part when dissected under Smart Guy analysis. I don’t know
why anyone writes poetry because there is no money to be made and you get
hassled to enter contests where everyone is a winner if they buy an expensive
book. I did like a famous poet named Sylvia Plath because I could understand her.
She was a depressed, frustrated individual who ended up killing herself at age
thirty, so that could mean she was a psycho which is why I understood her. I
only knew one famous poet. So from my
view, the most famous poet in the world was a man named Coochie Butler. No one
else probably knows his name, but he was famous inside the Florida prison
system.
I
met Coochie Butler while roaming through Florida in 1968. He was on parole for
armed robbery and had decided to become a successful poet. We spent the summer
in Panama City working as busboys at a Sambo Restaurant. He would arrive at my
apartment each day at four in the morning to use my typewriter. Coochie was a
big, dangerous-looking man with a bunch of tattoos and a head the size of a
watermelon. He had quit school after the fourth grade, so he was dumber than
dried lava, but since he thought I was a Smart Guy, we got along fine.
Coochie
always had a bunch of money he shared with me. This was unusual because we made
the same salary at the restaurant. But there were a lot of armed robberies in
Panama City that year. We parted company at the end of the summer when he
decided to become a better criminal. He succeeded, in his own mind. I believe a
successful criminal is one who doesn't get caught. Since Coochie spent over
half his life in prison, I thought he should have tried another line of work.
He wasn’t able to support himself with poetry.
Coochie
was executed in Florida in1976. His mother sent me the charred original of his
short poem, Them Thar Roses, written moments
before his death. No analysis is required to understand this one. Coochie could
write under pressure.
Them Thar Roses by Coochie Butler
Them thar roses, I got them free
Them thar roses, Are all for me
Them thar roses, From mom and dad
Them thar roses, Sure make me glad
Them thar roses, Sure do smell
Them thar roses, Are finer than hell
Them thar roses, You can see
Them thar roses, I'll take with me
Them thar roses, Sure are fair
Sitting on my lap, In the 'lectric chair
Cootchie Butler in 1968
A dangerous man who appreciated
fine flowers.
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