Of Snakes In Our Garden Prose; Brothers, and snakes. (prose, originally published in 2012).
There was this lieutenant in the local police force,
Castalucci, he always rode my brother Reed
because my brother Reed was
my brother Reed.
This would have been 1967 or so
a time when my grandmother Sis still worked
volunteering in homes and facilities
for the "mentally retarded"
and my father was commanding the USS Tallahatchie County
and the old school nurses at ASH
were still wet behind the ears,
likely trying to get laid,
adjust to being monsters,
or otherwise being who they were
then
and still are
today.
This cop, he used his car once to pin my brother against a fence
and though my mom pressed for a suit
my brother Reed refused to relent
in his willingness to forgive and forget,
until the cop died one day
pinned by his own overturned tractor
in a ditch full of nearly stagnant water...
And my brother Reed wept,
I remember that.
The old school nurses at ASH are snakes
who get tangled in the front wheels
of newcomers to the forests of the bayous
and rivers, where these nurses have long lain.
"Per-thumpa Per-thumpa" these nurses go
when they tangle themselves up in my forks
and it is difficult to know who is right
and who is wrong, the rider
who has plowed into a creature of the swamp
gods a creature that would bite and kill him
("But you are a nurse!")
if just for one moment the rider relaxes his hold
on things like reality, truth, and common sense.
Just like the nurses at ASH, the mean ones, that is:
The water moccasin fairly well lept into my evening
tonight, shook me up, asked me many questions,
much unlike the old school nurses,
in fact, who make it their business
to ruin, to inflict, to harm and demean,
never moving on, it seems.
In this sense, such persons
are worse than snakes
and should be smote with a hoe.
I promised them that much, I said:
"How much ya'wanna bet
you don't get away with it."
And today, you know who you are
down down down
to the last one of your ilk.
(c) PJ Reed june 2012
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I would really love input of any kind from anybody with any interest whatsoever in the issues that I am sharing in this blog. I mean it, anybody, for I will be the first one to admit that I may be inaccurately depicting certain aspects of the conditions
at ASH, and anonymous comments are fine. In any case, I am more than willing to value anybody's feelings about my writing, and I assure you that I will not intentionally exploit or otherwise abuse your right to express yourself as you deem fit. This topic is far, far too important for anything less. Thank you, whoever you are. Peace and Frogs.