I’ve always said
I was gonna leave you …
When all the land is wet …
—“I’m Not Ready Yet”
And remarkably, ridiculously, George Jones recalls Chaucer, whose April showers pierced the March drought, and Eliot, for whom April was the cruelest month.
I know, Jones didn’t write that one (Tom T. Hall did). For that matter, he didn’t write a great many of the songs that made him famous. That’s beside the point, because poetry has always been about sound, about voice, and Jones had a voice as strong as Chaucer’s or Eliot’s.