05-24-2013, 11:29 PM
This is one of my "talking" poems, and some might think they suffer from the American gift for understatement. The girl in this shows up briefly in a short novel I made called No One To Hold When the End Comes; and I can try to add a scene describing her "Southern face" to that. And the difference between that face in the Old South and now. There's more room for digressions in novels.
I can't function well in the South, at least in rural areas like this. But there are dark, supernatural undercurrents that I'm drawn to in some places in the deep South. Places themselves that get down deep in you, and hold to you with something stronger and deeper than roots. You can never really have it out with these things and get away with it.
I can't function well in the South, at least in rural areas like this. But there are dark, supernatural undercurrents that I'm drawn to in some places in the deep South. Places themselves that get down deep in you, and hold to you with something stronger and deeper than roots. You can never really have it out with these things and get away with it.