<div>“Drew may have lived many years among the Yanks, but his Mississippi roots are having their say, shining through in every irreverent/reverent syllable. Once you pick this book up, you won’t be putting it down any time soon!”—Nancy White<br><br>THE DOWN AND DIRTY REDNECK HUNGERS FOR THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY<br>I’ve always been afraid of burning to death,<br>but with you I was like a tree in October,<br>on fire with a shitload of leaves just<br>before the north wind ripped them loose<br>and sent them ass over teacup earthward. Girl,<br>if only you would come again driving<br>down Main Street, your long golden hair<br>streaming out the window like yellow flames,<br>your white Mustang unstained as you was,<br>I wouldn’t give a damn about how I go,<br>only that the crash when it comes rivals<br>them leaves up to their stems in duff,<br>and that one day we can look back and say<br>okay, we crashed, but we crashed still burning.</div>