It ain't the pork, it ain't the beans
It ain't the mustard on saltines
It ain't the redneck social scenes

I love about the south

It ain't the ice cold sweet southern tea
It ain't the way that we say please
It ain't the way we lemon squeeze

I love about the south

It ain't the perfect slice of pecan pie
It ain't the wink in the bullfrog's eyes
It ain't the fireflies that light the night

I love about the south

It ain't the way we say yes ma'am
When you visit Alabam
It ain't the attitude of yes we can

I love about the south

It ain't the way that we say ya'll
With the syrupy sweet southern draw
No it ain't none of that at all

I love about the south

It's the crisp clear starry nights
Through the shifting shadows of the loblolly pine
As I stand here with your hand in mine

I love about the south

Just the fact that you are here
And that I can hold you near
As I hear you call me dear

*I love about the south

My mother thinks I'm a doctor
I just don't have the guts
To tell her I spent all my college doe
On beer, wine, women and such

So after I faked my graduation
Said I was moving to the South
To help the less fortunate among us
Another lie I let slip out

I'm now in the south of Florida
Where some may call me a ***
Living in a citrus grove along the coast
Not answering to anyone

It's really not such a bad life
This do nothing life I've made
I hear my Moms proud of me at afternoon tea
Telling the girls of all the lives I save

I do my share of dumpster diving
That's where I got the idea
Behind a real doctors office one day
With some of their stationary I nabbed

I did a little doctoring
After all I do play one in Moms mind
Doesn't look to lame where I inserted my name
Then wrote my Mom about the kids and the wife

I've created such an elaborate charade
It's now gotten all out of hand
As I panhandle my way up and down
The Sunshine states surf and sand

Mom now says she wants to visit
Can't wait to meet the wife and kids
Don't know how I let it get this crazy
And how it all lead up to this

Now I'm scrambling to find a vacant house and a woman
With a couple of kids that look just like me
That can go along with a ruse for a week in mid-June
Since I told her that's when  I'd be free

I'm thinking I should of studied in college
Instead of being this mind numbing huckster
Telling lie after deepening lie
Just so my Mother would think I'm a doctor

I sit on my porch, the sky is dropping
As I pour my tea.  The day was lit
With paint and brush, now my face
Is lighted by the round full joy
Of the shining moon, I see
Him in my filling cup.

Thank you for pulling me out of my silence
Into the world of other people for a moment.
It reminded me that my existence needs context
And that people can be something other than
Annoying background noise to my obsessions.

Thank You for ignoring the awkward silence,
And pretending that “uh, yeah”
Is an acceptable answer to any question.
Usually my obvious lack of eye contact
Would discourage the casual conversationalist,
But you took it as a challenge.
And it’s exactly what I needed.

Most of all,
Thank you for taking the time
To be kind to me,
A lonely misfit,
In an indifferent world.
And though it is not worth much,
You have my eternal gratitude.

Someday when the door is open
And the sky burns blue,
I’ll see you standing on my beloved dunes
In the spot near the coyote’s den,
Where when I was ten I learned of death
And life,
From the sun bleached remains of a rabbit’s collar bone.

Someday I’ll see you shining in a sunlight
That no shadow can erase.
Joy will be the air around you
And there will be no more pain.
No fear of retribution,
Divine or mundane.
No more death
No more hunger
No more shame.

Someday we’ll start over.
Just you and I
And live the dreams we spun
When we were young.
We’ll have world that isn't crooked on its axis,
A life that isn’t hopeless.
We’ll have our innocence,
Immersed in the warmth of
Pure,
Unadulterated,
Love.

For now I will endure.
Live the existence assigned to me.
I will quietly suffer my share.
But someday,
I’ll meet you there.

They say we are strong,
Sister
What do you think of that?
I laugh.
They say we are lucky,
Sister
What do you think of that?

They say we are survivors.
I smile.

I glance at my sister, balancing her beer
precariously on the edge of the couch cushion.
Her brows furrow.
She knows how grief worms its way into your
Heart and makes a nest.
They stole our souls and ****** on our innocence.
No amount of change, distance, time, love, therapy
Or pharmaceuticals
Can ever replace what was taken from us.
She looks back at me with knowing eyes.
We laugh.

No one survives.

We work our fingers to the bone
For a pitiful paycheck.
Our clothes smell of chlorine and bleach.
We stay up all hours to study.
Our futures are bought with our sweat.
Women like us don't wait around.

No time to be idealistic.
Sure, we dream of a better life.
But we're not afraid of the means
To our ends.
Women like us have ***** hands.

Suffering said to Pain,
"Sister, how can this be?
Why are are we here?
When will we be free?"

Said Pain to her sister,
"You whine too much!
You ask too many questions..
You don't accept God's touch"

Angered - Suffering quipped,
"God's Touch sister dear?
Our world so full of ugliness
Have you not looked in a mirror??"

Pain rolled her eyes
"Suffering, how long has this been?
Since the beginning of dawn
Til we reach each night's end.."

Suffering sighed, exasperated
"Pain, I love you..I do
But how do you go on??
Tell me, how to settle without truth?"

Pain softened.. replied,
"Dear sister mine, be still..
I know not more than you
But, I see it is God's will."

Suffering, now resigned
Knew the argument she'd lose
Pawn pushed across chess board
"Sister Pain, its now your move.."