the canebrake

[wastinaway]

Da canbrake in da loft
yes, chile, six feet and corn-ear thick
shoot some double-barreled rot
in yo leg or arm
finally in yo heart
Pappy done pulled it
outta Cleo's slop trough
hissin' and rattlin'
funny, cause hawgs eat snakes
chile, don' play in dat hay
Pappy done thought da best
way to root dem rats out tha hay
was to put Death
himself in da loft
ole tabby woulda been fine
eat da rats and keep my toes warm
Pappy swore dem rats was gone
rotten from da inside out
Last fall
Pappy climb da ladder
grabbed da cane
and his left hand swoll sa big
stuck his band on da right
while da left fell off
field hand opened dat canbrake
twenty gauge at da death head
hissin' like a kettle
now Pappy jest pets dat tabby
one armed all day
I can't bear tell him
Dey's still rats in da hay

[gatsbysghost]

But once I got used to the dialect, I loved this poem. The image of the father sitting around with his one good hand, petting the tabby, is crystal clear in my mind and funny as hell. Overall, an excelent use of irony.

In atmosphere, you achieved something that we all need to strive for, getting to the heart of a complex issue in a short and simple form. Those few lines of dialouge, accompanied by the lines that followed each one, managed to say more than most people accomplish in the same number of full stanzas.

I could go into paragraph discussing possible symbolism in the canebrake, but I won't, because I don't really know if it was intended.

Two mighty fine poems.