The poems selected for this volume are politically incorrect, spiritual, whimsical, clever, and charming. What else would one expect from the youngest of ten siblings who lived in holey-roofed houses, picked spinach and cotton, and rode stick horses; or from a man who jumped out of airplanes wanting to be a hero, survived a car wreck which rearranged his face and body, quit drinking at age fifty, divorced and remarried, learned to play the piano, took up drawing and oil painting, and delved into the works of Carl Jung, resulting in an acute psychotic episode and an early retirement. He is currently dealing with memory loss and autumn leaves.
Jerrel has written thousands of poems that reflect the disparity of his nature and interests. In arranging this book for him an assortment of topics and moods fell naturally into place. As it says in his poem, The Writer:
Words tumbled from his pen like rocks in an avalanche,
The only obvious meaning is something came loose higher up.
