Old Fashion Humor

by Alannah Benae

 
Southern grief’s and old fashioned burials,
We’re gonna grieve like the blessed souls we got.

Sweet tea n’ peppermint candy dishes,
Say it right or get popped in the mouth.

Hot summers and dry graveyard grass,
The ground soft enough to sink a high heel into,
You’ve sunk into someone’s grave by accident-
But we chuckle while
walking in a crooked
line.
It’s hot,
it’s humid,
the sky ever too bright-

The sun is too optimistic and the skies have been so dreary and sobbing,
We cackle and bicker our way through headstones.

Making a cheery humored line toward sobbing family members,
It’s how we do it right despite it being wrong.

Singing to hymns and prayers,
Ever sensitive and emotional-
Discreetly holding hands ever so surely.

We known we knew we forgot we heard of.

Blood and not,
We’re heard of but not known.

After tossing dirt into the hole in the ground,
Throwing flowers down that dirt cubby,
I know how to sound sad and grief heavy with tone by copying your voice,
You know how to talk to fit the theme.

Driving back and worn by family n graves,
We’ll play a snappy tune,
Talking about where to eat or where to find something sweet,
We’re all wearing our finest grieving attire and getting slushies,
Dragging grass and mud all over the floor.

Watching news in hole-shot t-shirts and worned shorts,
You’re burning the grief and the dead away in a cheap tin foil pan,
Wandering into each room, nook, cranny.

The day has ended and my hair is short,
Tucked into a casket buried and gone.

This is grieving, we continue on with the losses.