it may have been just a media ratings boost
when Malcolm said that thing about chickens coming home to roost
it was like Alice in her Wonderland
off with his red bearded head
but one last look down that dusty Tara plantation road
there was Scarlett scampering down the lane
holding her fancy petticoat
I ain’t here to gloat
but we seen them dark clouds before
the impending hurricanes on the horizons
comin’ round the mountain
weeks
months
years ago
this daily show reminds me when the master called good old faithful
Rin Tin Tin
but the whistle didn’t work this time
they sitting in them leather recliners
won’t peep the other side of the aisle
nah
can’t point crooked fingers at me
'cause we ain’t had nothing to do with it
we was minding our own business
sitting on our own front porches
drinking mama’s homemade iced tea
ice cubes all up in my mason jar
watching all this calamity
and don’t you hope
don’t you wish you could throw out a lifeline rope from across your aisle
and we can pull you in
reel you in
should have paid attention to them swimming lessons from the old YMCA summer camp days
I learned how to line dance in the water
backstroke away from you
on to my Huckleberry barge
into my recliner across the aisle
and watch you flail your arms
while your chickens cross the road
back to the roost from whence they once came
and I’m head noddin’
feet tappin’
listening to the Four Tops
'wake me
shake Me
when it’s over'