Conversation with Maxine Overheard in a Motel Lobby off I-16 in South Georgia

Background: We are traveling on weekends these days to see my father and help with some household tasks, so we are spending some time in hotels and motels on the road. Sometimes I just like to eavesdrop and take notes about how life happens for other people – which is what I did on Saturday morning as we sipped coffee in the lobby. There’s nothing quite like a little slice of cultural conversation, overheard, to get the mind racing about what life is like in other corners of the world.

“they finally found him in Statesboro in CCU

after he went into Metter and they transported

him to Statesboro then to Augusta who sent him

back and he was lost, nobody knew where

he was at but he was at a dadgum good hospital

in Augusta and either he checked hisself out

or somebody came and picked him up and

took him back to Statesboro…..

I cried all

night because I messed up my baby’s hair

and it looked like a lawnmower done ran

over it and all the kids teased him in school

but the vet showed me how to hold the

clippers and I did it just like that…..

I called Betty Joyce, Maxine, and you do not

understand sometimes I have to talk to her

and I told her I can’t deal with her actin like

a two year old like she done this morning….

now Barri in Laundry don’t want that job

so I better not hear her complainin one more

time cause it’s done been offered but she

says she don’t want lobby…

there’s three types of tacos up there and I

got off the phone with Ashley and asked Mama

if she wants to share a plate of three tacos

but Mama said them tacos won’t be very big

and she got hers with beef and I got mine with

pickles in those torTILLa shells, and we shared

them but she ate two and I ate one and she was

upset so Denise called and asked her if she wanted

to go sit over there at her house and I told her

regardless of her knee surgery she weren’t going

because her grandkids are coming and Denise has

Covid and she’s actin funny. All this crap I

got going on and my Mama’s gon’ talk to

me this way. Her husband left last night

and where’s he at now? Nobody knows.

I was still hungry so I told Ashley I wanted

some rice and beans because my tacos

showed up without pickles and onions

so she brought those out to the house

and added some pork and pineapple and

it was so good, Maxine. Mama got a piece

of pineapple in her taco and I thought she

was ‘gon flip her lid and she started

actin up again…..

And so a couple comes up to check in

off Cartwright and wants a room at 7:54 a.m.

and the clerk tells them if they stay around

here they have to live over 50 miles away

to check in and the man said it was

more comfortable though

{my mind

was racing at this point, there was

no sleep about to happen, and the

botch-haircutter went back to

weaving a web of life so intricate

and vernacularly cultural that I

had images of a web with the

word TERRIFIC over a

smiling Wilbur as I thought

of that rude goose and Templeton}…..

And I busted her out in front of

her husband at the ballpark

cause she’s been here but

not with him – she’s been here

and she looked at him and me

and when I hinted I’d seen her

recently she looked stupid and said

she ain’t seen me in probably

never.”

Open Write June Day 2 with Margaret Simon – Duplex Poems

Photo by dhiraj jain on Pexels.com

Margaret Simon of New Iberia, Louisiana is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 2 of the June Open Write. You can read her full prompt here. Margaret inspires us to write Duplex poems in the style of Jericho Brown, using this process:

A duplex poem is 14 lines, 7 couplets, 9-11 syllables per line. 

The second line from each stanza repeats as a first line for the next stanza. 

The first line is echoed back in the last line. 

My poem is inspired by a daughter’s new puppy, a dappled Dachshund named Jackson (after Jackson Pollock, for his spots). I used the Duplex form and thought of one of his famous paintings entitled Convergence and how his abstract art reminds me of things – – like these catastrophic chicken tacos that have no business being served in a shell that is only going to break and create food art under the first bite. Photo of Jackson below.

Catastrophic Chicken Tacos

catastrophic chicken tacos happen

always at lunch on taco Tuesdays

always at lunch on taco Tuesdays

shells break, insides spill onto the plate

shells break, insides spill on to the plate

revealing shredded lettuce, tomatoes, chicken

revealing shredded lettuce, tomatoes, chicken

all my cheese splatters broken taco art

all my cheese splatters broken taco art

like a Jackson Pollock painting: Convergence

like a Jackson Pollock painting: Convergence

a speckled canvas of confetti’ed food

a speckled canvas of confetti’ed food

catastrophic chicken tacos happen

Welcome to the family, dappled Jackson Pollock dachshund! May you paint the world with smiles and laughter and joy and leave your paw prints on every heart you meet!