by Dan Jacoby

our country’s culture
grown coarse and obscene
has distanced itself from a time
when railroad tracks connected
things that mattered
like one generation to the next
language is no longer a play
post-its went to tweets
nation’s fierceness
independence now gone
predictable as noon bells
like an indulged childhood
of a southern goddess
it roils in Mississippi mud
lost is sound of ice
clinking in glass of ice tea
it was civilized
quality met quality
it meant you were “pourin”
made you feel cooler
from smut eye in bullock county
to otter creek in macoupin
once journey proud
standing in high cotton no more
pounding the preacher
or the poser
dancing in the eye
of a man made hurricane

Dan Jacoby lives in Illinois on a very old family farm. He is a former student, special forces soldier, spy, steel worker, teacher, coach, mentor and principal. He is also a Civil War history nut, having had family members who fought on both sides. He traveled extensively in the South while in military service and was stationed at Ft. Bragg, Ft. Benning and Ft. Smith. Read his previous poems in Deep South here

Maynard, Now Gone
Review of 'Whisper H
  • Alana Gale / August 4, 2015

    I like what you write