Why all the cabbage said I?

It grows in the back said he.

Where's the bathroom said I?

The outhouse is in he back he said.

Does your dad live in town I asked?

No, my dad's buried in the back, out past.

Did your grandfather save this farm for you to have?

No, he's also buried in the back, in a grave.

   So, at this point I  quite naturally just had to go into the back of the house,
to see all there was to see.  Quite naturally.
And dear God, let me tell you what I saw.

              .....TO BE CONTINUED......

( I'm learning the art of cliff hangers in my writing.  You know,
leave them hanging.  Wanting for more.  As in...to be continued).
    How am I doing?
( By the way, there is no ending to this poem. I'm a shock poet.  My poems are like being bitten by a word-snake.  Uncomfortable yes, but you'll probably live.  
     Willoughby, out!