Daniel Warren

Southern Smile Daniel Warren

A Southern SmileChair, the room withwhite wallsCome... sit down to fry. My body balloons with a feverMother somewhere, cries... My man sits down to break-fastsits down to food-feast. My body longs a drink to healthlongs a sad sweet sleep. Rest easy my man I drift byAll hail your toast and jam, I taste your last bit of Oran-juiceSuch soft shoulders in my hands. A flip of wrists; neck-twist, feel sadness, a Southern lady screams in pain. I'm drawn away to face the daylooks like a sky-rain. All is lost my body tossedon a cool linen sheet, Must have been a dream my friendOne dreamed quick before I sweet-sleeped."It was in all the papers," said the man, "So fine a Southern belle, the same morning he was fried, God rest him -"-- he smiled --"God rest him in hell."