JETTING TO BIRMINGHAM
I had a distant kin who was in the
War Between the States, on the Rebel
side. No reason, hated everybody equally,
including his wife, from whom he just
needing to disengage. 'I'd rather take
a musket ball to my gut than have to
listen to that nagging scoundrel of a
she-male any longer.' The family lore
ha him saying that the November day
he left. I don't believe it because there
ain't no cuss-words in it. He spun them
like a weevil spins cotton, see. As for
the rest of it all, the who begat whom
and where he sits exactly in my lineage,
I never knew. They also said he made a
lot of kids, like 14, everywhere and all
over. I used to tell kids 'you wann'a be
my cousin? I can probably work you in.'
Then one time, some really pretty girl
was getting undressed for me, and she
said, 'Why, Horace, (that's me, you see)
Horace, if you must do something terrible
like that, at least make me only a third
cousin, please, so's we can have this time
together.' Oh yeah, I said, OK.
-
Anyway, this guy I'm talking off saved his
regiment by slowing up, somehow, a group
of some 12 feed slaves who were gunning
at them. He came around the area, and just
single handedly killed them all. 'I never
much liked that color anyway.' He was
quoted as saying, later, drunk. They gave
him a statue in Birmingham Square, and
now they're taking it down - to the salvage
yard, they say, for scrap, 'less I come get it
poste-haste. All these years later. Ain't that
the damnedest - these days it's like people
got the cancer all, but inside their brains now
or something. So, yeah, I'm flying on down,
got a truck already rented, and bring it back
up here, to Avenel. I guess I'll put it right on
my front lawn. Don't know why not. It's mine.
Anybody comes after me about it, I'll blow
their ass away with my 'thirty-aught-six.'
They'll be leaving re blood there all over the
street. Never much liked that color anyway,
so's they better come clean it up.
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