Pigmeat and Catfish

Pigmeat & Catfish

By Rudolph Lewis

It was a Sunday afternoon. She

bounced along on her toes in all

the fullness of self, “I know how

to stay out of trouble. I know how

to play the good girl,” she said.

It’s 20 years since I seen my niece

We each go to our corner for relief.

Dreams painted on ghettos walls are

for sale. Live screwing of bayonets.t

The Third Army 800s hurl tears into

the mob. Flames smoke sky, comics

rain on men wrapped in red & blue.

War is noble & clean as your mom

in apron, as Beetle Bailey walking

on sawdust, the color of your meat

They say we had Fun when we all

were poor. I ain’t Mr. Look Back

But I can't recall those times. On the

ground Hit Man fills his purse. Good

girls on stools clap: Checkbooks!

No canvas makes this drama bright

Responses

I love the title and the poem, so evocative of down home. I spent Saturday chasing Etheridge's shadows all over Memphis, taking photos of the rundown, boarded up, broken-windowed, and disappeared apartments, duplexes, and shacks where he lived. I ended up at the Cozy Corner buying ribs and running into two men that I have to interview for my Notable Black Memphians book—and irony of ironies, the Cozy Corner is two doors down from Bill's Twilight Lounge, where Eth used to hold his Free People's Poetry Workshops, but it, too, was vacant, boarded up, unoccupied for over five years they told me. I feel like I'm running after a ghost, but I can feel his bones, his belly, him looking through stone. – Miriam

Thanks for this one and for Me & First Woman. Good stuff – Kam

posted 23 February 2006