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| "I GOTS you!" |
The South--like too-close families or relationships past
their prime but not yet pronounced dead-- is like quicksand.
Once it pulls you in, you ain't going nowhere.
And on the off-chance that someone pulls their
sorry, soggy, sauna-ruined behind from the bog
and sets themselves free, they'll be endeavoring to
escape from the grainy residuals and crumbs that
stay cemented in your nethers for a lifetime.
The stinking, sickeningly sticky mantra of your former
fellows coming back to you from the verge--
"You can't get far. I will always be with you."
(That Southern specialty of curses buried in
hospitality and concern.)
Such is the haunting and the burden of the
specialized forces who are reluctantly Southern.
***
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