Southern Legitimacy Statement: I grew up in Florence, SC, right next to where the United States Air Force dropped a dud atomic bomb due to negligence. I saw the crater when I was 6. It was hauntingly large. The neighborhood cemetery, which is directly behind my backyard fence, houses the bodies of unknown Confederate soldiers whose dilapidated tombstones are no longer legible. Sadly, I have never seen a ghost.
Three Poems
Sunday Supper
There is no room
for me here.
I sit alone
at the dinner table.
I can’t escape
the smell
of floured chicken
sizzling on the skillet
in Grandma’s double-wide
on a Sunday evening,
the crashing football helmets
and Troy Aikman’s chuckles
trailing out of the TV,
Father’s head sliding
off of the living room’s couch,
Aunt Sally’s highlighter
running down her
crossword puzzles,
Mother’s crochet needle
weaving through a rainbow
afghan, the A/C unit
duct taped to the window
humming over them.
I sit alone
at the dinner table,
playing on my Gameboy,
waiting for Grandma
to plate the chicken,
to fill the glasses to the brim
with sweet tea,
to call the family
in for supper,
saying grace.
Grandma died
hundreds of miles
away
along with family
Sundays.
I swallow a spoonful
of Hungry-Man mashed potatoes
and listen
to the icebox in the freezer,
thinking about Grandma’s mashed potatoes
mixed with canned milk,
her collards
swamped in butter,
her calloused hands
beating the cake mix to death,
her voice – darker than a cave’s echo –
humming “Amazing Grace,”
how everyone smiled
passing the pots and pans
around the table, my momma
scooping mac and cheese
onto her son’s plate,
Grandma at the head of the table
talking about her favorite pack donkeys
and learning me how things were
before plumbing – when chopping logs
was the only way to survive winter.
Myth of the Purple Orchid
I was Joseph behind the communion aisle cradling plastic Jesus.
My father did not recognize me from the pews.
He searched for me in the musky parish hall.
Instead, he found Mom stripping off her pantyhose in the bathroom.
Shaking balls of nylon in her hands, she reminded him
of his forgetfulness. Your son is holding the Christ.
Dad liked to cradle the purple orchid on the piano bench,
petting its petals like he would a kitten.
Speaking of animals, Minnesota’s state flower smells like wet mutt.
The queen’s lady slipper grows in swamps.
King George III’s urine was blue. This and madness
were symptoms of gentian medication. This flower is not an orchid.
Orchids existed before the dissemination of Earth,
Anchoring land to Pangea until they blossomed.
The largest orchid can weigh up to 2 tons.
The smallest orchid is the size of a dime.
Mom called the dime sized dent in Dad’s head
The inverted love handle.
As a boy, he was napping naked in the tobacco field
when the Ford tractor caved in his skull.
Dad taught me how to drive when I was 16.
The right side of my face is still tight from the airbag blast.
Jill Biden is the 16th consecutive First Lady to have a namesake cattleya hybrid.
The orchid is Angelina Jolie’s favorite flower.
Dad named the purple orchid Marlene after the actress.
He sung “Jolene” while watering it, replacing the homewrecker’s name accordingly.
Paul Revere did not shout The British are coming! Baseball was not invented in Cooperstown.
The Declaration of Independence was not signed on July 4.
On his 6th birthday, George Washington never harmed the cherry tree.
He never said I cannot tell a lie.
At age 6, Dad taught me carpeting.
I have a black spot of rust scarred inside my thumb.
My psychologist mother tells me that I fabricated the memory of the purple orchid
as a grieving mechanism to compartmentalize my father’s subtle tenderness.
Imagine the purple orchid never existing in the sunroom,
the blind cat never nibbling its leaves.
Rest Area #62, Columbia County, GA
A Black boy limps behind his mother.
She removes her cross earrings while walking toward the women’s restroom.
In the men’s restroom, a urinal is out of order.
A puddle of blood drips from the fake granite countertop.
Donald Leroy Evans, “The Rest Stop Killer,” attempted suicide as an adolescent.
He targeted young White women like these 3 college girls Electric Sliding
in front of the imprisoned vending machine.
The first vending machine was invented by Hero of Alexandria.
It dispensed holy water.
This vending machine dispenses a Hershey’s bar and donut sticks 4 days out of date.
The earliest pagans communed with holy bread.
I am alone in my car.
In the accessible parking space, a father wheels his daughter out of the van.
She looks into the clear sky, reaching behind her shoulder for her father’s hand.
