“Tobacco”
Kathryn Stripling Byer
Georgia Poet
Biblo:
Byer, Kathryn Stripling. "Tobacco." Shenandoah. 53 Spring-Summer 2003: 46.
Grandmama chewed
mouthfuls ripe as
wild plums. Spat. Missed
houseflies and hound
dogs that stirred up
the dust. Her front
porch mottled brown.
Honey, idle
that cuspidor
closer, can't see
where I'm aiming.
I pushed the can
close with a stick.
Ran. She don't miss
a trick, said her
old man who hid
in the shed with
his whiskey. She
sees better, hears
better, what's more
she'll live longer'n
you or me. Don't
ever ask her
for anything,
Mama said. She
won't say doodley-
squat. Just let her
sit. Chew her cud.
Cow. The devil
take her black tongue.