I like the sense of strangeness in poetry...In country music this is now the exception given how banality rules (during the '90s country music became surbanized and sanitized and feminized). Sure it's not Milton or Shakespeare, but here's a snippet from “Almost Home” by Craig Morton:
Then he said,"I was comin' round the barn"
Bout the time he grabbed my arm
When I heard Momma holler son hurry up
I was close enough for my own nose
To smell fresh cobbler on the stove
When I saw daddy loadin' up the truck
Game poles on the tailgate
Barbers blowin' in the wind
Since July of '55
That's as close as I've been. -“Almost Home” – Craig Morton
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