Thursday, December 29, 2011

Kudzu Untamed

Give me your peas brother, he ordered me.
Peas, black of eye, with corn bread for sopping,
A ham hock and onion added flavor.
Being the elder brother, he took them.
I watched as he devoured them whole, sucking
The ham hock bone as my anger festered.
I knew he must die for such a grievance
And that night I hatched a devious plan.

My grandmother told of untamed kudzu
Growing so fast that windows must be shut
At night lest the kudzu vines grow into
A child’s bedroom and carry him away.
So I began the next day to tame the
Kudzu vines outside his window to grow
Slack so they would have length to reach upon
That bed in which at night he would slumber.

Within one week I was satisfied the
Vine was sufficient to strangle him.
In the twilight I crept into his room,
Pulled the kudzu vine in through the window
And as I mounted the bed he awoke
What are you doing he asked me, perplexed.
You ate my peas brother.  I’m killing you.
And I strangled him with the kudzu vine.

After the funeral the feast was grand,
With a large pot of my favorite peas.
So full of peas and corn bread I did sleep
And in my dream I saw the face of the
One I strangled but it was not brother
But my own and woke suffocating.
For the kudzu vine that could not be tame
Snuck into my room and strangled me too.

No comments:

Post a Comment