Hank Killed the Devil in the Harland Bottom Bog (repost for Halloweenie)

How to Join	Member's Area	Private Library	Search	Sanctuary		Login
Main Forums	Discussion	Tech Talk	Mature Content	Archives	A home without a wall, Our haven without ends, A circle we all call Our Family of Friends!

Local Rebel
Member Ascendant

since 1999-12-21

Posts 5767
Southern Abstentia

0 posted 2000-10-31 03:39 PM

as published in Thundersandwich 11 (thundersandwich.com)

Hank Killed the Devil in Harland Bottom Bog

Warm blanketing mist
rolled August fog
across Harland Bottom
half moon slicing
through drops
dew hung dripping
from kudzu laden trees
Frogs swamp singing
to stray amphibimuse

Russell stooge thumped fists
flying into sweaty palms
walking the white line
Trey Moe thwacked him quiet
Hank walked silent
footfalls fading into fog
the bog chirping, hooting, sleeping
into the midnight moonlight

Runt lagged six
paces behind the pack
jeans dragging asphalt
fraying more threads
dangling into boot
heels made him 2 inches
taller than short

Rusty muffler rumble
V-8 echoing thru timbers
Pepper Cox in his beaten
step side lights heading
around the crossroads glowing
halos into long fog shadows

Runt grunted "Pepper"
the footstep quartet skirting
to the shoulder crouched
in the ramble bye the Constable
half drunk hound dog Hal
driving him home again
hanging from the passenger
window howling at moon
shadows Red lights braked
timing chain skipping
back firing as Pepper pulled
to a roaring stop
face white whiskered over
shoulder shouting "Boys"
Hal growling "Ya'll need not
be a runnin round out here, likely
get killed dead." Grinding gears
he resumed the ride
home to his other half
case of beer

Trey inhaled passing
the roach into Russell's
thumping palms coughed out "****"
waiting for Pepper to pass
gas burning out black
smoke into the fog
Boys resumed the walk
into the Devil's lair
Runt lagging six paces
behind the pack

Nobody walked the bottom
to the dark of night
the dead of night
when the bog yeilded
the harvest of a hundred years
the fountain of a dead grave
the muse of the mist
the source of silence
the bottom of daylight
bottom of life
Evil dead reared up in
sunlight those who tried
to hide in the dark

Devil's lair had a fountain
with a demon's head
breathing mist to the evil
garden and out to the bog
A myth to most
but to those who walked
in daylight it was there,
real remnant brick crumbling
the stone head spouting
rays of evil from blind eyes

Inverted crosses wrought the
iron gates lacing the ancient
garden the ranks of
a forgotten clan passed
to generations of the
Born Again.

Hank didn't hold cotton
to the devil lore
thought the Henley brothers
the only true slime
to ever ooze from the bog
thirteen mean sons of
*****es and their dad
till they threw him
from the back of a
moving pick-up
everybody said they all
did their sister
the only girl
she had tits enough
for 12 more men
to hold

Runt dragged heels
against thread bare
nerves as the four boys
bound by pride, fear,
stupidity, and a bud lid
squared their spines
ripping oxygen from the fog
as they approached the
mossy shrine ever-ready
beaming lights glaring
into the stone demon's mouth

Gasping as bats flapped
through the summer sky
the boys settled in
sitting on the edge of the
old stone wall that lined
the dry pool the wrought
iron gates creaking in the
night breeze

Russell kicked Reeboks
and thumped stooge thumps
to occupy the time Trey
licking another joint into roll
as a flame lit another puff
of eternity Runt thought
he saw red eyes in the mist
and hid his own
as a Night Hawk flew over

The boys waited

Waited

Swamp burping out cricket songs
till dawn when Sol's rays
proved the Devil no scarier than
Sunday Schools Revelations

[This message has been edited by Local Rebel (edited 11-01-2000).]

SEA

Moderator

Member Seraphic

since 2000-01-18

Posts 22676
with you

1 posted 2000-10-31 03:48 PM

LR~ WOW!

That's a hell of a read! Fantastic!!

-SEA

Kethry
Member Rara Avis

since 2000-07-29

Posts 9082
Victoria Australia

2 posted 2000-10-31 03:53 PM

Reb,
this was a tension builder all right. I kept waiting for something to happen.
Great Descriptive write here. I wanna be behind Runt so I can be first when it comes to running.
Be well
Kethry

Growth demands a temporary surrender of security.
Gail Sheehy

Local Rebel
Member Ascendant

since 1999-12-21

Posts 5767
Southern Abstentia

3 posted 2000-10-31 11:34 PM

glad you liked it... .. thanks you 2

doreen peri
Member Elite

since 1999-05-25

Posts 3812
Virginia

4 posted 2000-11-01 09:04 AM

you tell a story like no other... your writing is uniquely you, thoroughly rich, wonderfully full, exquisitely art.... you, my sweet Wings, are a very talented writer and this poem about how you received the honorable name of Nighthawke has always been one i've thought as one of your best....

your verse flies, baby....

	⇧ top of page ⇧
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format.