Monday, October 24, 2016


Walkathon. The one who never stops.
Goes without ending. There's a word
for that. Let me take it to the bank : 
like Santa Claus, like Easter Bunny,
like Elmer Fudd his'self. Yesterday.
Out and about. Two black guys
sitting, talking about dead trees. 
Using funny words. 'Slavery'
words, I like to call it, plantation
diction. 'Those two trees gotta'
come down. They'll hafta' cut 'em.
Some time come, a big limb's
gonna' fall. You gotta' watch out.
Dag-burn. The thing about a tree
is, it'll be growing for 70 years,
and then just one day, some little 
car will drive right under it, and
jes' like that, the danged limb will
fall and kill some'n. Now what
d'yo think about that?' The other
guy says, 'I'm thinking that's called
Fate. Right I?' And then again the
other guy says, 'Yeah, but that be
it, dangest thing, Jes outta' the blue.
Yeah they gotta' cuts them soon.'

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