Southern Dilemmas

Southern Surprise!
Thar's a finger in my puddun
an I don think is a goodun
cause thar ain't no ring lef on it
that I cud take to pawn it
En git me some wine
No Room to Love
Too many people in my room,
My bed cannot contain you.
And though I'd love to hump you all
I'll have to entertain you
Some other way until I get
A bed that's fit for thirty.
Unless I get a rug instead
Where we can all get dirty.

I'd love to roll around with you
like pigs up in my pen.
But the trailer's small with y'all
stretched from door to den.
We oughta figure something out
to get this party goin'.
Maybe we can hide out back
Where I ain't done no mowin'.

My Biggest Dream
I wanna be
on a color TV
with my momma next to me
an our kid up on my knee
where the audience can see
how sweet life can be
Southern Sonnet #62
Are you reading this dribble?
How clearly the poet assumes
no southern men can scribble
their names on a piece of paper.
You southern culture raper!
You think we're all bad teeth and sheets?
Perhaps a lynching, two or three?
The mere sum of our Union defeats?!
WELL? It is untrue and unjust
To say these things you do.
We're more than simple sister lust.
I find myself most aggravated
For I'm southern and sophisticated.

One True Love
I hope I find my one true love
that would be like heaven above

My one true love would truly be
the best thing that could happen to me

He'd be white and pure like arian snow
He'd have a house where we could go

My one true love and I would make
Babies for my momma's sake

'Cause momma wants a mess of them
For every child is a gem.

I hope to find my one true love
so I can live like heaven above

Mere Haikusations
Haikuse you of murdering
Poetry today
You stupid stupid stubitch

Gondo It Agin!
The south is gondo it agin
Like they did before
We'll take those Union women
Spill yank blood all on the floor
The south is gonna do it agin!
Ain't you hearing me, son?
Damn it boy where you been?
This time we gonna won

Dear Poet,
I hardly have the words to express how assaulted I feel, though I admit to being the owner of the one fine form on this page. Yes, the sonnet.

But this is besides the point. You have portrayed southern culture as being a racist, incestuous, uneducated, and simply rowdy. You have mislead the audience by catering to their northern stereotypes.

Why not write a poem about "Southern Hospitality"? You have heard of that as well, have you not? Would it kill you to say something positive about the south, besides that atrocious haiku which I cannot understand for the life of me?


Southern Hospitality
Loretta: Oh! Why hello to you, Mister Moony
Mr. Moony: Oh, I do declare you are a brighter sight than the sun at noon, Miss Loretta
Loretta: Oh, you are a talker, Mr. Moony. Why don't you sit down here on this porch with me for a spell?
Mr. Moony: Oh, I could use a bit o' your delicious lemonade. And how could I resist sitting on this here porch with the likes of a woman as lovely as you, Miss Loretta?
Loretta: Oh, Mr. Moony!
Mr. Moony: Oh, I do declare this lemonade is better than I even remembered, Miss Loretta
Loretta: Oh, you are a talker, Mr. Moony.
Mr. Moony: Oh, jes look at them niggers workin the day away in your fields. It's a sight how well they keep for you, Miss Loretta
Loretta: Oh, they are some fine niggers, Mr. Moony. They never ever talk back jes because I'm womankind
Mr. Moony: Oh, then you are a lucky lady, Miss Loretta
Loretta: Oh, I certainly am Mr. Moony
House Nigger: 'Scuse me, Miss Loretta, but I's squeezed you sommore lemonade for you and Mr. Moony
Loretta: Oh, jest set it on down here. Oh, Mr. Moony, did you know that Nigger Jane here has a brand new niglette on the way?
Mr. Moony: Oh, and I bet you are a happy nigger, ain't you, Nigger Jane?
House Nigger: Oh, yessum I am.
Loretta: Oh, it is a fine life, ain't it Mr. Moony?
Mr. Moony: Oh, it certainly is, Miss Loretta


krs10 said...


krs10 said...

hint: click address three times, copy, paste