Peppered with soft strokes, humor,

Friendly smiles and gestures, the part of

Court Jester lets lie, scrubs and rub-a-dub-dubs

Like a baron in the tub the make-up

From so balmy a face.

The loam, along with forthbursting bath bubbles, spills out

Across the sheen of the waterline

Whilst fingers tip-tap and thin blues and reds 

Unspool, wrap and spin round their sudsy corona like the 

Obliques of ellipsoids shifting into better moods.

Mellifluous, the joyous undertones of 

Hummed tunes baste the room. The appearing 

Man is flanked in there by

Portraitures, French nudes, dusty bottles, a luddite’s knick 

Knacks, tarot cards, tacks, and kaleidoscopic dioramas of 

Characteristic, candlelit swings and swoons.

 

Somewhere else, somebody else wants to be anywhere else.

 

But here, in this town, there dwells a blunderer's delight.

Most stumble upon it, and try to leave but become mesmerized

By the (charm) and (sights).

Yes, this place like any other is rampant with plights, 

Yes, occasionally, in this place like in any other there are fights,

And yes, jets rumble ‘cross our wide, curved cerulean vial;

Rattle the sane, the wicked and the mild,

Even the clementines balancing on pyramids

Arranged inside kitchen fruit bowls. 

 

Beaufort is a community built on old values, both

Sad and gloried histories, triumphant victories and miles of

Undulating cordgrass; on thick, red and methane-smelly

Pluff

Mud; and on wet embankments and slick tarmacs.

We wave, So long! as the barges let go their beautiful, baritone

Brunnnnnnft! 

Passing under picturesque bridges that mark the 

City’s limits;

Here, it seems, sometimes there are no limits.

 

So, what is it about this Beaufort? I’m often asked.

I live in a big city, through small towns I only pass.

Well, life’s slow.

In the Spring and Fall the sundered marshlands glow.

The people in Beaufort… why, they are like a robin to a kite. 

They all seem to know everything about everything,

Such as the lay of the land, or where best to stand or take flight.

In our churches and congregations, the singers can really sing,

And on our gallery walls are nailed rich tapestries,

Masterworks, which, anywhere else, would elicit such flattery,

But, here, may as well be battered bees (B’s).

 

There are no doormen who stalk the backs of bars.

Our primary political concern concerns having parking lots

For cars—

Count our stars! One, two… a million!

The skies are full at night;

The learned astronomer’s dream is deemed

Not just active, right.

Sure, there are bullies, and sure, some do flub,

Sure, some names are whispered, sullied, and 

Clubbed, until, by and by, we put them curbside

For when the garbage men do come.

 

Nothing much goes to waste

Since the garbage men do come.

 

There must be thirty-six coffeeshops and twenty-four 

Car washes,

Twoscore oil and brakes changers

And thirteen-thousand secret bushes.

I’ve heard Deutsch and Spanish, German and

Gullah, and–

Here comes the Court Jester–

For that I am no dullah!

 

Where else can you walk for water, or hire a lawyer

From a billboard?

Where else do the private lives of frogs and fauna

Reveal themselves in the steaming breath of a 

Southern summer? Here, pride lies in runners, and not the

Carpeted kind as

Love resides in helping hands, giveaways, givebacks and

Kickbacks, and in strolls through dusk-rubbed trails, and

Among schools that are not for sale.

Our creed is not common, but it does not need to be,

Because greed here is uncommon,

And that’s how it ought to be.

What is Beaufort but a town in a dream within a dream,

Where the dreamer is dreaming about dreammakers,

Who themselves dream of makers of dreams. 

This is a place like any other, and also no other, yes, it’s true,

It’s a town unlike most towns, but a town yet,

Through and through. 

So next time you travel past, why don’t you take a pass,

(A parking pass!)–

Hush–

A pass of a place living in the presence of a past

That has forged a present that will last until the very last and–

Time’s up–

The Court Jester finally has flushed.