Old Enough
I get up early cause I know Pearl will make biscuits, eggs, and crisp bacon and let me lick the warm salty lard with my fingers from the skillet once it cools off. I watch her go "mmmm, mmmm" and squeeze her lips into a smile. She starts the percolator for Paw-Paw, pours me a big glass of ice cold milk and stands over me saying, "drink it down." Pearl always makes hard things seem easy, not so good days feel okay and I wish she were my Momma. We don't look the same but if she asked me to be her child I'd be the luckiest girl alive. She pulls my fingers out of my mouth, " you get worms now, hear me?" I most definitely don't want worms so I am really trying to stop chewing my nails. Pearl's nails are always clean, trimmed, with a clear, shiny gloss. Her lips are full, ripe, like a fresh dark purple plum. She has fine teeth, big hazel eyes and wears tiny gold studs in each earlobe. I want earrings, but the thought of a needle being pushed though my ear doesn't sound like it's worth the trouble, at least right now. I would like some tap shoes though. Pearl laughs when I tell her about my dancing dreams. She says I have happy feet cause I am wiggling my toes all the time. When Paw-Paw goes out on the porch to smoke his pipe I always show him my latest moves. After breakfast, Pearl starts washing our sheets and says there is a dust bunny under my bed. I don't want to look. I scare myself enough just looking at hobos. Anyway, back to the railroad. Just can't help myself. I don't curse, smoke, steal or commit sins that I know of, but I can tell you right here and right now, hobos teach and preach more than any one body needs. I confess I became on friendly terms with a man named Hank. He'd wave and say, " Hey, May! Keep smilin' kiddo!" and he'd sometimes be laying in the shade right calm when I snuck up to see him. He always looked sad just before he caught sight of me. Soon as my big trap started jabbering he'd change like a chameleon. That is, he'd try to make life seem so fine. I new he was hungry. I started taking biscuits on the days I figured he'd be around and he was always obliged. Just like the song, Mr. Bojangles, I began to show off my dancing moves to cheer ole Hank up. How is it we just know someone isn't happy? He laughed and smiled; in my mind he had a harmonica or some groovy steps he'd show me, but he never did. When the rest of the jumpers, as he referred to his fellow train hopping hobos as, came around he'd shoo me off. He told me in a kind, yet tough way to go on home. Where Hank went I never knew; in my heart I liked to hold it was somewhere much better than the hard ass dirt he slept on, full of God only knows what, and lonesome nights with an empty belly and mosquitos. Back home, I'm hosed down. Pearl gives me a hard stare; I am guessing she is guessing where the heck I've been. I am full of cockleburs, red from the sun. She leaves Paw-Paw and me my favourite, whipped cream and orange jello. I always hug her when she heads back to the place she calls home; I will make sure that this summer I follow Pearl like a cat stalks, curious that is, not aiming to find trouble. Late, when Paw-Paw is loving his heap of second helpings from supper, I ease out from my bedroom and stand right in front of the late night news. Paw-Paw's old Grandpa eyes widen and I start dancing; I pretend to tap dance and point my toes toward the ceiling fan, clap my hands and fall onto the thick, Persian patterned carpet. Paw-Paw laughs with his belly bouncing. I guess for now, summer is getting off to a good start. I slink down the long hallway and slither into bed. I wonder where Hank is now; Memphis, Baton Rouge, New Orleans? By now, hobos, I mean, jumpers, could be anywhere. I say out loud as if I am praying, "Goodnight jumper Hank; goodnight Pearl". I wiggle my toes one more time, roll over toward the moon shining through my window and smile.
Comments (18)
Which yet survive, stamped upon yellowed pages, Staring with seeming sadness at dusty volumes.....I liked these lines... captivating poem!
😅 That Photo! Your creativity is very adaptable... It knows no limits. Fun stuff, John!
Amazing story keep uploading
I'm not much of a poem aficionado, and had to look the original poem up so I could understand the parody. I think I like yours better, haha! Great job as usual, John!
Alright, John. I've decided if any of my poetry (being that good or that bad) deserves a scathing parody, you're the guy I want to do it. Shelley would love to pushed down another notch on your hit list.
If he weren't, he'd probably clock you one, eh 😁
John, I had forgotten about this poem from high school lit class, and you brought it to life with much more style than my teacher with no sense of humor. Your work is so varied but consistently great that I can't wait to read your next offering!
Magnificent! Bravo! This is one of my favorite poems that I memorized as a youth so your rendition gave me double delight. You manage to be witty and poignant and poetic in equal measures. Your name will be stamped on this digital pedestal 'til pixels scramble and fade! And your could your parody have a more fitting subject than King Paul? Jolly good, I say.
Haha. This is brilliant and so much fun. I wasn't familiar with the poem, but when I looked it up, I was so impressed with what a great job you did on the rewrite. And that pic is perfect. King Paul looks like he's about to judge all us minions. I hope his sentence is not too harsh. 😬🤣
What a fun parody! Very clever, John!!
Oh, the inside jokes. The outside jokes. The jokey jokes. The mockery made of making a mockery of a well-mocked king of kingmakers who dethrones upon the throne. This one's porcelain, John. All in the name of Paul the Great, who may or may not know where greatness doth hide... Brilliant. I expected nothing less. Of both of you! 🤪 🤩 🥳
My youngest son's favourite poem lol. To be fair...I'm a grumpy old gen-xer lol. Percy is fine enough...prefer his wife's work. This...though...is hilarious...I mean look at that face....that image is now burnt into my mind. Your words, as ever, though, were just oozing with brilliance. Yeah...I am a little speechless...made me smile this morning lol. So that's a good thing. Awesome work and thank you for the silly, clever, funny nod! Wordsworth can go hide in a hole (I do realise he's dead...oh the irony.) So many clever lines...but don't wanna highlight them and be accused of being pretentious haha! Well done and thanks for the smile and laugh and that awesome image that makes me look like I'm sat on the outhouse toilet....
That photo, I cannotttttt!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Also, I call Paul as Sir Paul, Lord Paul and King Paul Shakespeare. This was so freaking fantastic!
I had to go look this poem up. Fantastic rewrite, but I hope Paul's shelves don't get bare.
Oh my! The last line...😅 Great poem, I loved it!
I don't think they'd mind too much, any of them. I loved this little reworking for King Paul! What I would draw your eye to is your mentioning of Shelley's full name at the end of your piece and the spelling of his middle name.
What a fun poem and hahahaha to the comment: it's a good thing he is already dead!
I think that works, Paul. Now you look a proper King.