REDNECK LITERATURE
errol miller
Today I stepped out of
a World of Fools, colliding
with a falling star, agreeing with my father
that South of here they seem to function
in funny illegitimate rages
looney, not complaining
I went off to work at the cotton mill
to spin exotic wondrous webs into
platonic dreams of the silvery night
and later, at the Bypass Tavern
I met friends with dogs
drinking Southern Comfort
calling home collect to Mama
there was no answer, solitary, out of ideas
I wept loudly in the men's room
as other greater daughters of Earth
shuffled around like impatient brides
waiting for their lives to happen
for swords to all upon their nylon bras
soon it was another golden era
at dawn sensible people prepared bacon and eggs
I unfolded a tired napkin with scribbled
notes to myself, wanting more than
these words of my own to set
me weeping again.
