Mam, Me and Mary by Marion

Our Lady of Guadalupe in my yard surrounded by wild berry blooms and Apple Mint.

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This is a repost from my old blog.  I wanted it here with my other Mam poems.  Please excuse the rerun.  

I saw my first dragonfly of the year today, 2 weeks before spring offically arrives.  Happy, happy, joy, joy!  We put up 4 Bluebird houses last week and four little Bluebird families have moved it.  More joy! 

xo,

Marion

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M'am, Me & Mary
by Marion

M'am & me lived on a
old houseboat barge
deep in the Atchafalaya swamp.
She made a livin’ sewing
counterfeit voodoo dolls
and sellin’ ‘em to a lady
what had a shop down in
the Quarter in
N’Orleans. I helped her some
by collectin’ & stitchin’
on the Spanish moss hair
and she’d pay me by lettin’
me take off into the swamp all
by my lonesome with my
beat-up copy of
Gone With the Wind.

I’d find me a dry
hidey hole & sit, read &
dream I was
Miss Scarlet kissing that old
scoundrel, Rhett Butler.
I never got tired of him.

In the corner of our barge,
were a statue of Mother Mary
with dollar store candles
in blue mason jars
all ‘round her. She shore was
purty at night. It was like
fireflies worshipping @ her
ever-young feet. M'am says that
the only god worth her gumption
was precious Mary.

She’d clarify, between puffs and fancy exhales
of her Pall Mall filterless ciggies,
“Sweet Lord, but givin’ birth
ain’t hard enough, like squeezing
a GD watermelon out your arsehole
but the Blessed Mother
did it as a virgin.
Shit, I know it ruint her
for sex ever after."

I sure miss M'am. Them
damned Pall Malls kilt her
way before her time.


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"Come voyeur my poems

Feel free, I feel free."

~Carrie Latet

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"A bird does not sing because it has an answer.  It sings because it has a song."  ~Chinese Proverb
 
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