No Matter

Yea, dat ole sun slid from de oily delta sky
Den a sloppy moon peaked, then popped up afast
And the night fair stole in to take charge
Da chirren runs home fer suppah or a beatin
Unfair dem hands of Time bendin da quik-quik on parents
While a lone bulb burnt a little more along in da shadow
Damn cat scratchin all over, fleas busting such a pesterin chore
Flat tire Joe passin by sayin his son wont soldier no mo
‘Ghanstamn sent him home half broke and such
Hillary’ll take care of dat mess, fer sho
D’shana came home late agin
She one of dem saint death nurses, osspice kind, I thinks
Her husband Bobby Sledge gets so he don much mind
But she so tired and folks insist on passing no matter what
Worser when dey quits and leaves the team flat
No way I cud do that job, no suh
I jus sits here and glues dese words together
Thankee for clappin yer eyes on this mess, thankee

About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on June 2, 2016, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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