​​i.

a bucket of hot and crispy
double-battered fried chicken
and a cooler of ice-cold malt liquor
shared among old friends
on a humid august night
while the jukejoint shuffle-stomp
throbs from next door
rattling
the clapboard walls.
ten times as loud
every time the back door opens.
the edge of the swamp
a main street full of boarded up
hardware shops
engines rev and tires chirp.
a trucker hat flies off in a flurry of blonde hair
when a college boy picks up his girlfriend
hoists her over his shoulder and carries her
laugh-screaming around the parking lot
like a hunter returning from the hunt.

ii.

now love has got you
by the short and curlies
and you count the moments away from him
on fishing trips
or drinking with your buddies
a sunset spreads quietly over the horizon
turning the morning’s storm clouds
to bruised purple and pink in the evening
while good buddies pass a bottle back and forth.
sam puts the bottle on the tailgate
it falls off and rolls down the hill
when he jumps over the side rail to swipe
a cigarette from my stash in the truck cab.
we ain’t like those shitty rednecks
on the history channel
talking ’bout the south
will riiiiiise again.
we know gay people
shit, man,
scotty’s little brother is gay.
but he don’t live in town anymore.
he moved, i guess
to the city.

iii.

it went down
like a cup of cold sick.
he spoke from the heart and
they listened quietly
something terrible opening in their bellies
as he tore down everything
they had ever taught him
and spit on their most deeply held values
with carefully chosen words.
the smell of baking biscuits
and peppery sausage gravy
drifted into the living room
settled
on the plastic covered furniture.
a september day
full of rose-gold light
a heavy love unburdened
within moments
and laid bare
unmistakably.

iv.

this moment
crystallized and unbreakable
would be just as sharp in
two decades
then three,
then four.
and then there would be fewer of them to remember it,
and fewer still who could say
we thought we were doing the right thing
we disowned our own son
and got nothing
but platitudes
god never gives you more than you can handle!
and a place to go on sundays
where nobody asks
why our son stopped coming.