the cut through

I believe this what they used to call a slice of life piece

blue highway

paper maps

back road state line

like to find a trucker whose

making good time tuck in behind

safe from johnny law

and his stupid speed traps

The Cherokee

meat and three

is right where i left it

this old town

still holding it down

under the kudzu

and the snakeroot

never miss much but supper

I know exactly what to expect walking

into this diner here and I take some comfort in that—

a mostly male congregation stands

blue collar

brown

black and white

hold out plates

gotta get themselves a helping

a holy rolling

happy again

belly full of something good enough to eat before they head back out in the blistering heat

it’s easy at

a meat and three to decide— what to have

the answers in the question

on the chalkboard

in cursive writing the

menu and the day of the week

it’s Tuesday in case you wanna know

fried chicken

smoked ribs

brisket (choose 1)

okra collards yams green beans and mashed potatoes with gravy (choose any 3) plus cornbread or biscuits (automatically) comes with a drink Coca Cola or tea (sweet or unsweet)

desert to take with if you like

I want mine

chain gang time

walk the line

after you finish

clear yer plate

say thanks

it was delicious

get a toothpick

a mint

while she rings up your ticket

tips go to the cooks

the bulletin board by the register catches my attention

Billy Calhoun got a Jenny mule for sale

there was a tornado last week but nobody got hurt

clean up continues

garage sale at Bethel Baptist lots of good stuff

also the Wolverines made regionals and are going to state

I still root for the home team

nobody recognizes me

I don’t give my name and cash is still king

thank you ma’am

it was a righteous decision to stop in always is

thank you kindly for the blessing

I’ll be careful

take care

yes—

it’s hot as blue blazes out there

might rain soon yes I’ll pray in that direction

the old man in the blue seersucker suit waves his hat at me

think he says is that patsy’s girl but

I’m out the door so I’ll never know

keys in ignition

sugar cane split

I don’t wanna talk to another living soul here

no offense

in the end everybody leaves quick

mass exodus

back out to the big business at hand—

whatever keeps you in old

hard country Alabam’

cotton

peanuts

feed and seed

bank

church

package store (used to be a dry county not anymore)

old habits die hard got a silver flask from my cousin

who loved me

bourbon up my tea

sunglasses on

pull out of the parking lot

little light rain starts

amen and please

radio static search:

preacher yelling/

/r and b /mariachi/

country’s hot jam 103

they say the devils beating his wife when it rains and the sun still shines

scared me a little when the old folks would look up at the sky then smile

on days like this seemed so mean poor devil’s wife nobody to help her get herself free

it’s pretty though

the light trailing streaming in prisms through the tall pines tiny rainbows

teasing

is it August yet or still July?

all this coming and going im steady doing and everything’s the same

in Cherokee

19 miles from Florence on down to Muscle Shoals

all damned up sacred holy

don’t nobody there sing no more

I take the same dirt through the pecan grove

I could drive it with my eyes closed

eat blackberry cobbler at the coondog cemetery

names like BeanBlossom and Blue Flash

make me laugh

gotta get myself together

before I go by to say hey to

mama and them

resting on the other side down the hill

old grandaddy in the paupers field

I come to Cherokee

to work once a year

so I stop at the meat and three like the rest

then spend the whole afternoon tail tucked between my legs cleaning up these graves

nobody tells me shit

and they never will

I leave before dark

take the cut through past the old house

never look at it

I hope the ground swallows it whole

as soon as the rubber hits the road

head back to Atlanta

find some old trucker

tuck into the load