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.