the FOOT

By Poor William

 →VIDEO INCLUDED←

Poor William's twitching foot.

The evening began with the latent voice of Pontificus Minimus stilling Poor William’s jocular, often loquaciousness (OR) often jocular, loquaciousness. As, “W” might say, “That’s for you thinkers out there!”

The tawdry lad had nothing to say—rendered speechless, he was! Alas, what shall he do?

Slacking of late has he, a hint of summer idle. 10:30 at night, helping Magical edit Stolle interview, when what to his wondering eyes should appear? But Poor William’s foot, twitching so near!

What say ye Poor William? Does that squiggly paragraph above render you a poet? Say it ain’t so?

Nay, a poor poet at best is Poor William, the same fellow who felt as if he had lost his voice (from a literary standpoint, not literally–there he goes again with that ‘lliteration!) earlier this evening—deadline night. Was Pontificus’s goody-two-shoes-more-than-ample persona drowning out Poor William’s cavalier perambulations?

Poor William noticed that Pontificus has been doing most of the opining lately, and the slightly more hedonistic lad thought maybe his vox populi had diminished to the point of a poorly discerned whisper.

Always one to wait to the last minute to pen anything, he found himself strangely speechless, concerned if he would have a Whim by press time. Poor William decides to stop his thinking, sidling up next to his video-editing spouse, he watches the interview he conducted with Roger Stolle, owner of Cat Head Delta Blues and Folk Art in Clarksdale, Mississippi, and the author of the recently released book, Hidden History of Mississippi Blues. (WATCH THE VIDEO INTERVIEW AND READ MAGICAL MADGE’S AWESOME, OUT-OF-THE BOX REVIEW OF STOLLE’S NEW BOOK. POSTED SOON!).

As both Bohemians discuss the finer points of “what the hell were we thinking in that scene,” Poor William notices two painful things: 1) His neck looks fat; like it has been stung by something; fear not Poor William fans, both of ya, he has not been stung by the truth. 2) His sandaled foot at the bottom of the screen refuses to stop twitching. His leg rarely, if ever, ceases to quiver, but he remembers channeling his “twitchiness” during the interview to his left foot, so as hopefully not to disrupt the entire scene. He assumed that the spasmodic foot would not be included, but he forgot his bride does not like feet to be cut off in any visual format. Pity the husband who takes a picture without “all da feets” included.

Upon recognizing the distraction of the twitching foot, Poor William shouts, “I got it! I got the Whim; it will be called “The Foot.”

I swear, I do believe, there was a pre-tornado hush heard ‘round the world and stillness descended upon the Delta Bohemian office, a virtual epiphany, and “The Foot” was born. Poor William’s voice had returned, now he must write about something he “doesn’t do”– feet. He pens the italicized pseudo-poem above on a piece of scratch paper; he then reads aloud the beginnings of “The Foot.” Magical records the insane ramblings of a poor man’s even poorer poet. (WATCH ACCOMPANYING VIDEO BELOW).

So, in this edition of the Delta Bohemian, Roger Stolle is The Man. The video interview focuses on him and his awesome new book, Madge’s review is about his book, and “The foot” is predicated on his interview. The only thing left is for Pontificus to go back and edit his opining about the two gentlemen, Marshall Bouldin III and Troy Catchings, and add something about Stolle, but Pontificus would have none of it. So, Roger, to paraphrase Meatloaf, “Three out of four ain’t bad!” pw

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