... Applachia ..., ... beauty ..., ... country ..., ... ghosts ..., ... home ..., ... life ..., ... pain ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... the South ...

family grits

between watery and paste
there are grits,
butter drowned grits.

and you cannot make
grits in water.
that’ll never salt to taste

you boil ’em in salt water
and ain’t no taste bud
won’t dance to that tune.

talk to me about dancin.
talk to me in riddles.
make the drawl crawl down
from your tongue,
and lap at the air,

my great grandparents didn’t
know anything about burnin incense
or burnin hash, or burnin people.

but they knew about burnin grits,
and that you can’t salt ’em after
the fact, and that’s why
I know, too.

Advertisements
Standard

One thought on “family grits

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s