Being what Holds the Pen Together
someone gone have
tell pappy
someone gone have
tell pappy
what happen
what happen
pappy at the bridge
someone gone have
tell pappy
what happen at the bridge
sister baby gone
and jumped
pappy
someone gone
have do
tell
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
3/1/09
Sister Baby's Second Patron Saint
Being a Testament of a Longer Story
knows like oil on river
knows water
knows like slug on crawl
knows salt
knows no detergent
no ajax
no heroic tide no
breeze or lake blow
‘s going to cleanse away
or leave a hint
even the least poison
hair of mint round
her mouth
no lye or tar soap
she knows
like some spot
won’t go won’t
go way no
matter the wash
the rub the error
slung round that taste
the feel the plunge
of the tongue
round and down
just a thimble full
tonigh’ sister baby
need a steak
for my eye
tastes like the mud
on the river
in the oil
tastes like the bumps
on the back
when the salt
splatters
tastes the same
tonigh’ as last
as nigh’ before
and before
tastes like prayer
like the same
prayer to her
patron saint of grave
stone and hand
guns best gave
to the lake
delia sister baby’s
delia
why’d you make
it taste so bad
you bitch delia
she prays
if it’s got to taste
like blood in the hole
why at least
it can’t be pretty
delia you bitch
prays sister baby
give me a gun
and I’ll know what
to shoot
first make it shiny
and red give me
a gun and I
‘ll find a lake
deep and will throw dead
straight give
me a gun
and I’ll plug his
knobby thimble
full full of dirt
and hurt you bitch
give me a gun
delia
like last nigh’
and the nigh’ before
and before
and be like
no sweet air
‘s ever gone
blow this
way
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
knows like oil on river
knows water
knows like slug on crawl
knows salt
knows no detergent
no ajax
no heroic tide no
breeze or lake blow
‘s going to cleanse away
or leave a hint
even the least poison
hair of mint round
her mouth
no lye or tar soap
she knows
like some spot
won’t go won’t
go way no
matter the wash
the rub the error
slung round that taste
the feel the plunge
of the tongue
round and down
just a thimble full
tonigh’ sister baby
need a steak
for my eye
tastes like the mud
on the river
in the oil
tastes like the bumps
on the back
when the salt
splatters
tastes the same
tonigh’ as last
as nigh’ before
and before
tastes like prayer
like the same
prayer to her
patron saint of grave
stone and hand
guns best gave
to the lake
delia sister baby’s
delia
why’d you make
it taste so bad
you bitch delia
she prays
if it’s got to taste
like blood in the hole
why at least
it can’t be pretty
delia you bitch
prays sister baby
give me a gun
and I’ll know what
to shoot
first make it shiny
and red give me
a gun and I
‘ll find a lake
deep and will throw dead
straight give
me a gun
and I’ll plug his
knobby thimble
full full of dirt
and hurt you bitch
give me a gun
delia
like last nigh’
and the nigh’ before
and before
and be like
no sweet air
‘s ever gone
blow this
way
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
Momma Had Good Days, Too
Being a Verse of a Larger Story
momma keeps collecting
elephants
and baskets full
of thimbles
one against
the misery
of forget
the other
in case a loss
of nimbleness
should o’ertake
her sinews
and fingers
she stacks
her elephants
in a glass display
on the bureau
keeps the thimble basket
at hand
on the dresser
a passby feel
and count ten
sixteen twenty
eight glass stain
less steel use
less iron
these are the good
days spent
waiting for pappy
comin’ in from labor
two little toeheads
under foot and table
these days are the
good dusting
cleaning cooking
raising correcting
reading the good
word of the good
lord given
in and for
dire times
too plenty in lack
of salvation
or mercy
pappy’s building a tree
for the kids of
old tire retreads
says it’ll be easier
for them
to climb or bounce
off of
these good days from
the lord do
come momma thinks
because she has versed
herself in his
vast and wondrous
testament’s word
has heart taken
the spirit
and the son
will let no evil
cross
her door
junior seed
‘s her cherubim
sister baby her
seraphim
pappy might gabriel
clearing the way
for the lord’s good
righteousness
and all her days
will she walk
in the shadow
of the tongue talking
light
with her apostalization
of the acts
of the true
saver’s body
and blood
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
momma keeps collecting
elephants
and baskets full
of thimbles
one against
the misery
of forget
the other
in case a loss
of nimbleness
should o’ertake
her sinews
and fingers
she stacks
her elephants
in a glass display
on the bureau
keeps the thimble basket
at hand
on the dresser
a passby feel
and count ten
sixteen twenty
eight glass stain
less steel use
less iron
these are the good
days spent
waiting for pappy
comin’ in from labor
two little toeheads
under foot and table
these days are the
good dusting
cleaning cooking
raising correcting
reading the good
word of the good
lord given
in and for
dire times
too plenty in lack
of salvation
or mercy
pappy’s building a tree
for the kids of
old tire retreads
says it’ll be easier
for them
to climb or bounce
off of
these good days from
the lord do
come momma thinks
because she has versed
herself in his
vast and wondrous
testament’s word
has heart taken
the spirit
and the son
will let no evil
cross
her door
junior seed
‘s her cherubim
sister baby her
seraphim
pappy might gabriel
clearing the way
for the lord’s good
righteousness
and all her days
will she walk
in the shadow
of the tongue talking
light
with her apostalization
of the acts
of the true
saver’s body
and blood
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
Junior Seed and Rooster Have a Difference of Opinion
Being a Testament of a Longer Hymn
junior seed and his
staggering
taste of fence
post fed knuckles
mixed with cornsoul
and barley tendon
no man gone
talk ‘bout
sister baby
like coffman number three
‘s out doing
in the parking
lot at the A
&P last nigh’ rooster
coffman still
picking out teeth
from the grill
of his personal
daddy’s midnight
blue oldsmobile
where junior seed
took rooster’s head
played that front
grill like a wash
board with rooster
‘s head like a wash
board band needing
a backbone on a hot
tuesday nigh’ in a cold
joint full of dip
sticks and lug nuts
who do not at
all necessarily
appreciate the damage
and feared noise a set
of bicuspids
properly pushed and pulled
cross the bi-metal
v grill makes like
a set of nails
cross the wavy ribs
played that front grill
like a casting
of lots
on a hill
junior seed’s got a tender
left eye and a tiny
portion of right ear
gone
where rooster had
a lucky grab right
before he lost
his left eye tooth
he knows he
‘ll see the car
in the shop
in a coupl’a days
and jones’ll fix
it up so that old
man Coffman won’t pitch
too high a fit
pappy won’t pitch
too high a bitch
‘bout junior seed
defending the terrible
dirtied honor of
darling sister baby
in a minor squabblin’
disagreement with just
another town jalopy
with a big mouth
and too much half
wit intuition
but not enough to
hold tight his tongue
he’ll be flapping gums
for a while gums
and burgers down
to the krystal
boy shouldn’t ought
talk round unfound
suspicion junior seed
thinks
thinks how
he’ll make mention
of loose lips
and better use
sister baby to
nigh’ by the
fire or down to
the tire tree while
pappy
‘s at his auxiliary
veterans meet
n greet
make mention of
rooster’s sad blooded
toothless smile
saying
seed you know
true is true
you know
seed
sister baby’s a whore
seed
been with every
jackanapes in town
cept you and me
seed
you and me
and maybe
maybe pappy
rooster says
not knowing what
a believer junior seed
is in sowing
what you reap
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
junior seed and his
staggering
taste of fence
post fed knuckles
mixed with cornsoul
and barley tendon
no man gone
talk ‘bout
sister baby
like coffman number three
‘s out doing
in the parking
lot at the A
&P last nigh’ rooster
coffman still
picking out teeth
from the grill
of his personal
daddy’s midnight
blue oldsmobile
where junior seed
took rooster’s head
played that front
grill like a wash
board with rooster
‘s head like a wash
board band needing
a backbone on a hot
tuesday nigh’ in a cold
joint full of dip
sticks and lug nuts
who do not at
all necessarily
appreciate the damage
and feared noise a set
of bicuspids
properly pushed and pulled
cross the bi-metal
v grill makes like
a set of nails
cross the wavy ribs
played that front grill
like a casting
of lots
on a hill
junior seed’s got a tender
left eye and a tiny
portion of right ear
gone
where rooster had
a lucky grab right
before he lost
his left eye tooth
he knows he
‘ll see the car
in the shop
in a coupl’a days
and jones’ll fix
it up so that old
man Coffman won’t pitch
too high a fit
pappy won’t pitch
too high a bitch
‘bout junior seed
defending the terrible
dirtied honor of
darling sister baby
in a minor squabblin’
disagreement with just
another town jalopy
with a big mouth
and too much half
wit intuition
but not enough to
hold tight his tongue
he’ll be flapping gums
for a while gums
and burgers down
to the krystal
boy shouldn’t ought
talk round unfound
suspicion junior seed
thinks
thinks how
he’ll make mention
of loose lips
and better use
sister baby to
nigh’ by the
fire or down to
the tire tree while
pappy
‘s at his auxiliary
veterans meet
n greet
make mention of
rooster’s sad blooded
toothless smile
saying
seed you know
true is true
you know
seed
sister baby’s a whore
seed
been with every
jackanapes in town
cept you and me
seed
you and me
and maybe
maybe pappy
rooster says
not knowing what
a believer junior seed
is in sowing
what you reap
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
Shuffling Jones Sings the Only Song He Knows
Being a Testament of a Longer Hymn
shuffling jones stinks
of oil
and carbo
hydrated rators
wipes his hands
and hates some
more on pappy
and his lackadickical
seed sitting
mighty and
lowslung in the air
conditioned office
fair wages paid
and has put
every other two bit
shop in town
on the skids
so slim pickings
if going looking
jones knows
that not all
vehicles that don’t
go have maintenance
issues per
se but enough
sugar in the tank
or loosened lug
‘ll convince
many a driver
to take their
automotive care
else where
to the last honest
mechanic in town
so pappy bills hisself
fair wages paid
and shame bout the wife
but the wife
is near to better
off away from pappy
and the seed
fair wages paid
and there’s nothing
that shuffling jones likes
more than having
a quarter
in a dime’s world
and no thing
less than the look
seed takes on
when that baby
girl
comes round
slinging lunch
or a hunch
or sometimes
just a shake
and a wiggle
girl
her age has either
the sticks
or
the wiggles
and she is blessed
with the gifts
make most men
moan
shuffling jones thinks
the seed
might moan
too much
given he
‘s kin
but shuffling’s not
much up on
the tale
of bibylis
and caunacus
knows a fire
when he’s seen
a fire
and knows most
fires to have
two ends
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
shuffling jones stinks
of oil
and carbo
hydrated rators
wipes his hands
and hates some
more on pappy
and his lackadickical
seed sitting
mighty and
lowslung in the air
conditioned office
fair wages paid
and has put
every other two bit
shop in town
on the skids
so slim pickings
if going looking
jones knows
that not all
vehicles that don’t
go have maintenance
issues per
se but enough
sugar in the tank
or loosened lug
‘ll convince
many a driver
to take their
automotive care
else where
to the last honest
mechanic in town
so pappy bills hisself
fair wages paid
and shame bout the wife
but the wife
is near to better
off away from pappy
and the seed
fair wages paid
and there’s nothing
that shuffling jones likes
more than having
a quarter
in a dime’s world
and no thing
less than the look
seed takes on
when that baby
girl
comes round
slinging lunch
or a hunch
or sometimes
just a shake
and a wiggle
girl
her age has either
the sticks
or
the wiggles
and she is blessed
with the gifts
make most men
moan
shuffling jones thinks
the seed
might moan
too much
given he
‘s kin
but shuffling’s not
much up on
the tale
of bibylis
and caunacus
knows a fire
when he’s seen
a fire
and knows most
fires to have
two ends
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
Pappy's Got a Blind Eye
Being a Verse of a Larger Story
pappy’s got a heart
of wrong
and no right
way to sing
hisself to sleeps
a’ night
what pappy knows
is momma
away that girl
‘s all his
now by the
river now by
the tire tree
now at the house
now down
to the shop
the girl
‘s all his
now what
pappy don’t know
a lot
no myth
no sense
of archaeology
or theosophical
soul questioning
so he
don’t know
just how long
his line
truly is he don
‘t know how
right in some eyes
he is
his vine
up and in
the tree
that is his
blood sister
baby what
he does know
no fault
of his own
is the moon
light when
she crinkles
out stretching
the limbs
anigh’ in the hush
shade of stars glow
pappy don’t know
pappy don’t cloud
his mind
not fit for
giving and
taking god took
momma gave him
sister baby for now
blood drips slower
in some
veins
blood don’t know
to run in others
at all
and her is his
and he’
ll have his
gets his hand
on his axe
as hard as
it takes
his baby’s
bark
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
pappy’s got a heart
of wrong
and no right
way to sing
hisself to sleeps
a’ night
what pappy knows
is momma
away that girl
‘s all his
now by the
river now by
the tire tree
now at the house
now down
to the shop
the girl
‘s all his
now what
pappy don’t know
a lot
no myth
no sense
of archaeology
or theosophical
soul questioning
so he
don’t know
just how long
his line
truly is he don
‘t know how
right in some eyes
he is
his vine
up and in
the tree
that is his
blood sister
baby what
he does know
no fault
of his own
is the moon
light when
she crinkles
out stretching
the limbs
anigh’ in the hush
shade of stars glow
pappy don’t know
pappy don’t cloud
his mind
not fit for
giving and
taking god took
momma gave him
sister baby for now
blood drips slower
in some
veins
blood don’t know
to run in others
at all
and her is his
and he’
ll have his
gets his hand
on his axe
as hard as
it takes
his baby’s
bark
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
Preach Differentiates Between Honey and Wine
Being a Verse of a Larger Story
preach’s got a destiny
he’ll tell
his congregation
a heavenly
dessssssstination
he’ll say
meant for saints
and sinners
alike
he’ll say
where saints
and sinners
commingle
he’ll tell
washed in the blood
of the
precious lamb
he’ll say
of calvary’s
cruel cross
can
he get an amen
glories
to god from
whom all
blessings do flow
hallelujah
smell of wine
and maddog
twenty/twenty
under his altered
choir robe
affixed
with a special
golden stole
for his Sunday morning
sermonizing
and when he peels
the starched white
collar off his neck
he feels the press
of his jugular
ba-doom ba-doom
and thinks less
of it than any
other glass
of wine
this body
broken
this blood
spilled
‘nother night and day
in his redemption
city
to the man
who knows
half the town’s secrets
and is the
other half hisself
this altar this stain
‘d glass window
some broken
mirror of
the continuing
fall of man
that citydick with
child protective
services knows
no thing ‘bout
right wrong and
or done
eyes may avert
to keep the nose
clean
but no nose
is too high
or mighty
when she
‘s fourteen and
everybody
‘s had a taste
of sister
baby
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
preach’s got a destiny
he’ll tell
his congregation
a heavenly
dessssssstination
he’ll say
meant for saints
and sinners
alike
he’ll say
where saints
and sinners
commingle
he’ll tell
washed in the blood
of the
precious lamb
he’ll say
of calvary’s
cruel cross
can
he get an amen
glories
to god from
whom all
blessings do flow
hallelujah
smell of wine
and maddog
twenty/twenty
under his altered
choir robe
affixed
with a special
golden stole
for his Sunday morning
sermonizing
and when he peels
the starched white
collar off his neck
he feels the press
of his jugular
ba-doom ba-doom
and thinks less
of it than any
other glass
of wine
this body
broken
this blood
spilled
‘nother night and day
in his redemption
city
to the man
who knows
half the town’s secrets
and is the
other half hisself
this altar this stain
‘d glass window
some broken
mirror of
the continuing
fall of man
that citydick with
child protective
services knows
no thing ‘bout
right wrong and
or done
eyes may avert
to keep the nose
clean
but no nose
is too high
or mighty
when she
‘s fourteen and
everybody
‘s had a taste
of sister
baby
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
Sister Baby's Momma Gets Right
Being a Verse of a Larger Story
momma’ll sing a lullaby
when she’s right
when she’s right
lull sister baby
right to sleep
when she’s right
when she wants
to sing of bonnets
pretty and green
or blue
or swamp and
tinsels garland and nigh’
‘ngales
escaping their cages
when she’s not
in the clutch
of revelating momma
‘ll pull a jig
about charming sister
baby charming her
with the divine
interpolation
and the touching
of tongue
when she’s right
momma’ll send sister
baby junior seed too
off to dreams
with a kelpy soft
touch and breath
of honeydew rind
whiff of finger
cross the cheeks
cross the wisps of bang
away from eyes
cross the lids to close
and whispering of far
aways land better
than the kudzu moor
they call home
they call home
when she’s tight
against her angel
and none but none
can intervene
in the moment
she charms sister baby
junior seed too
even pappy’ll have
a cigarette-grim smile
at momma’s nigh’time
lullabies
when she’s right
when she’s right
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
momma’ll sing a lullaby
when she’s right
when she’s right
lull sister baby
right to sleep
when she’s right
when she wants
to sing of bonnets
pretty and green
or blue
or swamp and
tinsels garland and nigh’
‘ngales
escaping their cages
when she’s not
in the clutch
of revelating momma
‘ll pull a jig
about charming sister
baby charming her
with the divine
interpolation
and the touching
of tongue
when she’s right
momma’ll send sister
baby junior seed too
off to dreams
with a kelpy soft
touch and breath
of honeydew rind
whiff of finger
cross the cheeks
cross the wisps of bang
away from eyes
cross the lids to close
and whispering of far
aways land better
than the kudzu moor
they call home
they call home
when she’s tight
against her angel
and none but none
can intervene
in the moment
she charms sister baby
junior seed too
even pappy’ll have
a cigarette-grim smile
at momma’s nigh’time
lullabies
when she’s right
when she’s right
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
Sister Baby's Apostalizing Prayer
Being a Verse of a Larger Story
momma did her night
singing chant
like a curse
from old devils
own womb
howl no sound of
fire or earth
water
or birth
no air when she
‘d collapse
spent and wrapped
as a nickel
in a dime’s world
nigh’ long they’d hear
her prowl with the
moon undone
by the grip
her revelating
viced her in
when junior seed
‘d whine
pappy’d pop him
on the ear
hold your tongue
boy hold your
tongue you hear
they’d all lay in
whirled anticipation
to the next chorus
momma’d produce
letters to ephesians
galations all
the blessed apostles
firing off her tongue
while spirit
coiled around
the night
sister baby’d pray
the start the quiet
pray the cease
of oil pepper
and vinegar
in her momma’s throat
pray the right
of the esophageal
wrong, saying
john one
john two
luke three four
or five
cure this bless’d
curse whilst
I’m still
…
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
momma did her night
singing chant
like a curse
from old devils
own womb
howl no sound of
fire or earth
water
or birth
no air when she
‘d collapse
spent and wrapped
as a nickel
in a dime’s world
nigh’ long they’d hear
her prowl with the
moon undone
by the grip
her revelating
viced her in
when junior seed
‘d whine
pappy’d pop him
on the ear
hold your tongue
boy hold your
tongue you hear
they’d all lay in
whirled anticipation
to the next chorus
momma’d produce
letters to ephesians
galations all
the blessed apostles
firing off her tongue
while spirit
coiled around
the night
sister baby’d pray
the start the quiet
pray the cease
of oil pepper
and vinegar
in her momma’s throat
pray the right
of the esophageal
wrong, saying
john one
john two
luke three four
or five
cure this bless’d
curse whilst
I’m still
…
© 2007-09 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
Sister Baby Goes River Counting
Being a Verse of a Larger Story
pappy’ll treat a drink
like a wo
man on the rocks
but straight
out of Mason’s
glass legacy
now he’s had two
now it’s
three four
the clank of jar
on still turned
bar with no
tender in sight
sister baby counts
rivers to sleep
mississippi one
mississippi two
crawdaddy one
crawl daddy two
preach say
rivers go to the sea
to meet their
holy maker
and preach prays
in a funny way
our father who
hast given us heaven
in our land
and time
like a secret
best already told
like no tomorrow
or better today
jordan waters one
jordan waters two
where no michael
waits with no boat
and no shore
for to alleluia upon
sister baby hears
the clink of five
the pound of six
down and two or so
to go
before
pappy’ll come
wondering where his
that’s his is
and she’ll be counting
and he’ll declare owner
ship by possession
loseyourhatsee one
loseyourhat see two
where no rule
is made to be
golder pappy
‘ll outdo junior seed
in hunk
if not in hankering
makes the faint
amens of preach
downright
gentle
like a tire iron
hitting mud
sewanee one
sewanee two
a little salt
on the lamb
‘s blood
© 2007 -09– Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
pappy’ll treat a drink
like a wo
man on the rocks
but straight
out of Mason’s
glass legacy
now he’s had two
now it’s
three four
the clank of jar
on still turned
bar with no
tender in sight
sister baby counts
rivers to sleep
mississippi one
mississippi two
crawdaddy one
crawl daddy two
preach say
rivers go to the sea
to meet their
holy maker
and preach prays
in a funny way
our father who
hast given us heaven
in our land
and time
like a secret
best already told
like no tomorrow
or better today
jordan waters one
jordan waters two
where no michael
waits with no boat
and no shore
for to alleluia upon
sister baby hears
the clink of five
the pound of six
down and two or so
to go
before
pappy’ll come
wondering where his
that’s his is
and she’ll be counting
and he’ll declare owner
ship by possession
loseyourhatsee one
loseyourhat see two
where no rule
is made to be
golder pappy
‘ll outdo junior seed
in hunk
if not in hankering
makes the faint
amens of preach
downright
gentle
like a tire iron
hitting mud
sewanee one
sewanee two
a little salt
on the lamb
‘s blood
© 2007 -09– Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)