Blog No. 2 Up and At 'Em

I've got another blog now--Nemesis Watching. I'll still use this blog, but the other site is more for the nitty-gritty, prosy side of life, whereas this one is more for creativity, literature, and art. I'll be writing about unemployment, economic and social ills and issues, and other such topics. Thanks for reading! Love you all near and far!

The Southern Thing

I didn’t understand my Southern self

Until I moved to South Dakota—I

Was just thirteen, then. I was—you might say—

A novelty. Very nice, that. It gave me

A sense of place in being out of place.

Years later, at that college—How was I

To know there was guilt being Southern, that

A limit on my social standing—mind

So filled with culture notwithstanding. I

Did try to change, to smooth my talk, to make

Straight my meandering speech. Lost the cause.

My heart was cheered by my kind friend—he said

I was quite different from the rednecks,

Hillbillies, “good ole’ boys.” I did believe

Him. Got used to my rambling cadence, thought

I was okay to walk about and talk

In good society—You understand,

I think, now, why when she said, “I’m glad

I’m not a Southerner,” what I heard was,

“I’m glad I’m not like you.”

[This poem hurt to write more than I thought it would.]

[unlabeled curiosity]

How awkward it is, waltzing with two left feet
In a stained glass masquerade--
How frightening it is, wearing a broken mask
To a stained glass masquerade.

An unlabeled Seedling, dry and unsprouted for now

Just for the record--

To know what I did

To alienate you so

To know why you aren't you looking me in the eye

when other eyes are on you

Maybe I seem crazy

Too over the edge for your tastes

I stared too long--

my eye lingered too long outside your window

I'm sorry my admiration made you angry.