Southern Fried

Warning: “Exotic” dancers in the video. Watch at your own risk!

Having a four day weekend means more posting. Tomorrow I’ll be back at work and then traveling, so I’m getting my writing in now. =)

Southern fried.
Right foot in the sandy port city,
burned by citizens as they fled
the Union soldiers way back when.
A cannonball, made of lead,
in the church walls still embedded.

Left foot in the foothills of Appalachia,
Toes in the valleys of The Blue Ridge
where the red clay stains in the shadow
of Star City. The county is the
moonshine capitol of the world to this day.
Most good food here are battered and deep fried.

One of my grandma’s best recipes involved
fried apples with enough butter and
brown sugar to please a little girl’s needs.
Pickled watermelon rind, oh yes,
how I wish I took the time to learn of their secrets.
When older I learned of her fantastic Whiskey Sour recipe.

Though I’ve tried to leave the south,
Looked to the North for college: PSU.
Looked to the West and North after PT school.
Yet Neptune and the Sirens loudly recalled
me back to this place of sandy and
black clay soil with dunes & Cypress bogs.

The best crabs are blue, from the Chesapeake.
The best oysters are raw, hope no body peed.
Some of the best foods are fried, we won’t
talk bar-b-que if you’re from Texas or KC,
the Virginia variety has a hint of vinegar,
and is sweet and spicy: the best for this Southern Fried.

And don’t try to sell me the whiskey from
overseas or Tennessee. Kentucky Mash,
that’s where it’s at, just as the Joker says.
Angel’s Envy, Booker’s, Baker’s, Maker’s,
you can keep your labels named after dead men.
If it’s for me, it better be neat! Yes, really, seriously.

With feet in two places, I can speak
in a Southern drawl or generic American.
Not sure how some people think I’m European?
Born and raised, I was, south of the Mason-Dixon line
as were 3:4 of my Grandparents, in this state of Virginia
The state seal with a breast revealed….

Yet for nudist beaches, casino gambling one must leave,
traveling for another place to be.
It’s ok, at the end of the day I’ll return from those towns
happy to kiss the ground under my feet
when I once again return to this place of my birth.
Everyone, including me, never would have believed I wouldn’t leave!

 

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