I buried a book
under a cypress tree.
Watered it with whiskey
and sweet tea.
It took seven years
to grow Tennessee;
now he twines through my half-breed hair.
Over there
is a fine Sunday suit
for dressing up all of Saturday's sin.
Over here under the cypress tree root,
Southern Gothic
rising again.
55 words for Kerry at Real Toads
Saturday, July 4, 2015
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
25 comments:
This is absolutely one of my favorites of yours. I'm going to read it again and again.
Thomas Lanier would be pleased.
Loved this! Beautifully executed :D
You never fail to amaze me, MZ!!! This is terrific!! And, yes, I'll be reading in again and again, too!! Hope you have a great July 4/weekend!!
Fantastic! One of my faves!
This is so imaginative and beautifully penned. You are a MASTER :-)
What a great concept spawning a wonderful poem :)
Ha! I feel a zombie coming on--very funny on that level and yet you always rise above the expected or ordinary--a lot of fun here. Thanks. k.
Very southern indeed, at least to my northern ear. Whiskey and sweet tea...love that, though I doubt it's in any gardening book. ;-)
Oh, this is gorgeous in all sorts of ways. :)
Wild applause from this part of the south.
I absolutely LOVE this one! You speak volumes in small pieces. Fantastic!
Did Southern Gothic ever really go away? When I lived in SC, I saw the hypocrisy every week-sin on Saturday and go to church on Sunday to be forgiven. What BS!
Fabulous!
Love it. Love it. Love it. Like 3 versions of life and only one really lives.
How come the heat can feels so cold?
You've got Flannery O'Connor's knack for turning bourbon into vine.
You have a particular way with poems set on Sunday, which I find fascinating, especially when they are infused with such a strong sense of place as this example.
I can feel the Southern gothic running strong, live oaks and spanish moss implied, not stated, around the crumbling manse of our whiskey and sweet tea-soaked sanity--growing Tennesee is one of the best phrases I've read in years--superlative 55.
Oooh, what a great, gothic garden! Love the Saturday sin in Sunday's suit. Al the imagery is fresh and unexpected.
I learned a lot here, M.Z. Tennessee always seemed to be a lady to me. Maybe because all the folk I know there are ladies. Two best friends there, one a Baptist, the other a Methodist. One sips minted tea, the other wine and gin. Guess which is which? Love them both.
..
Wow, this blows me away. The rhythm of it, and the taste, intoxicating. Mmmmmm.
This would be good to read while drinking some sweet tea... or a Long Island iced tea.
Again, I'm going to slash one of your tires--too much talent let loose in too few words.
(I hate you ;)
Beautifully expressed!
Great job...
lyrics. you write ear worms, MZ ~
Whiskey and sweet tea make the perfect fertilizer for growing southern Gothic. Love your take on the prompt.
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