Well Run Dry.
November 3rd, 2011 § 2 Comments
“My first love? Well, I was in love with a man once.
He turned out to be kin to me.
When I found that out — well. I just ’bout went through the wall.
I don’t care what nobody says.
You gotta know who your kin are or your chirren will be ill-formed.
See, I was going down there, pretendin’ to go visit his sister,
but I wasn’t visitin’ no sister! No, ma’am. We was real close, him and I.
Turns out, after some time,
same day I was fixin’ to seduce him, that’s right, his mama said to me,
Donnie, chil’, who your mama? And when I tol’ her, she said,
Why, that make you and Kenny kin! Ya’ll third-cousins.
She didn’t understand none when I said, Thanks, ma’am, but I can’t stay,
when she asked me for dinner.
And, you see, I ain’t never gone down there no more after that.
That just ’bout broke my heart.
You know what they say, mhmm,
you don’t miss the water
’til the well runs dry and you don’t miss your baby
’til he says good-bye.”
- – recorded porch conversation with 73-year old neighbor
(29 october 2011)
Porch-sitting with neighbors is one of my favorite pastimes. I should practice capturing their insights as you have here!
Wisdom of Stability: Rooting Faith in a Mobile Culture, J. Wilson-Hartgrove–This is on my beside table, too!