Click my heels down the hallway. You hear me?
You hear me girl my grandpa used to
drawl he was Southern
like all of us are in this family here
bless your heart
Irish and Southern
like white pioneers of crazy magic
some days or long stretches of years there was no magic
-tell me the past isn't what it is-
that's the way i was raised up
in fear. drawn up
pure and violent blue from the well
curled in the bucket with skunkweed and snograss
ugly baby duck
Clicking down every hallway of every house
we lived in
my father's bristle stache
and intellect cut sharp as a used jackknife
across my face
a stripe of tiger, a stripe of tiger
his favorite poem:
'tyger, tyger burning bright'
his eyes. madness burns bright.
fear taught me love
was my first fairy tale
now i live
as if i was doomed all along
to tell the selfsame story no matter
i write a hundred words
i write a thousand words,
the story stays the same.
this is my definition of madness.
maggie may ethridge