Category: Life and Shadow
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Urban Life: Red-shouldered hawk
Red-shouldered hawk (Buteo lineatus) -
Piedmont Natives: Bumblebee on Georgia aster
Bumblebee pollinating Georgia aster (Symphyotrichum georgianum) -
All for Daddy
He always despised the nanny state. What he wanted was a daddy state.
He wanted a big, strong father figure to tell him what to do. And like any good boy, he would dutifully obey.
He wanted Daddy to beat up the people he didn’t like; to mete vengeance on his enemies.
“Don’t you talk bad about my daddy,” he screamed at them. “He’s gonna beat you up.”
Sometimes, late at night, he imagined his daddy punishing him, too.
“Spank me harder, Daddy”, he heard himself sobbing, his bare cheeks quivering in the air. The pain was just part of Daddy’s love for him.
He liked Daddy to control him so he didn’t have to make his own decisions. Life is hard, and he didn’t want to think for himself. He certainly didn’t want to accept responsibility for anything.
Whatever he didn’t like, Daddy would fix for him. And if anything went wrong, he could pitch a fit and blame Daddy for it before running back into his arms in tears.
He despised Mommy and wanted Daddy to beat her down. He knew Daddy hated that bitch as much as he did — Daddy said the only thing vaginas are good for is fucking and birthing.
He wanted to join in while Daddy skullfucked Mommy. In his fantasies, he’d scream, “Shut up and let me cum on your tits”, while Daddy slowly choked her to death. That would show her who’s boss.
Now, Daddy’s fading into oblivion, and the truth of a life spent in darkness is coming to light. Turns out Daddy’s a demon: an empty, narcissistic husk who doesn’t give a single fuck about the boy — and never did.
Baby boy denies it, of course. He’s doubled down on his defense of Daddy because he’s too fragile to accept what everyone else already knows: that Daddy is a monster far worse than any of his childhood nightmares.
If no one else will tell him the truth, then I will —
Daddy isn’t coming back, baby boy. And you were always on your own, anyway.
Guess it’s time to grow the fuck up.
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Cold, Cold Mountain
Dawn at Cold Mountain, North Carolina The bitch threw momma off the mountain.
She said it was an accident at the time.
Momma was an angry old monster —
‘Twas more “reap what you sow” than a crime.
As momma went tumbling down the hillside,
The bitch rubbed her hands with glee.
Now momma haunts the bitch like a devil,
And she don’t give a damn about me.
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A Man of No Land
Cades Cove, Tennessee I’m like a tree after its leaves have fallen:
Without immediate identity;
Nothing attached to me.
In the mist I stand quietly,
My roots sunk deep in substance no one sees.
Nothing will sway me.
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Urban Life: Common pigeons in Atlanta
Common pigeons (Columba livia). Peachtree Center, Atlanta. These little rebels don’t care about the rules.
They spend their days watching all the dull, desperate people noisily shuffling through the streets below, quietly defiant in their nonchalance.
My kind of birds.
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Old Friends
Tim Tingle. Tree carvings at Orr Park. Montevallo, Alabama.
To hear these old friends of mine talk, you’d think there was something in the water that night.
Well, I’m here to tell you it wasn’t like that.
The place was an unholy mess, and no one was doing a damn thing about it.
Sometimes you just gotta take matters into your own hands and carve your own niche.
Can’t nobody else do it for you.
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Piedmont Natives: Gulf Fritillary
Gulf fritillary butterfly (Agraulis vanillae) Here’s a fine fall friend I recently met on the Atlanta BeltLine. Hooray for public arboretums!
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Urban Life: The Morning Train
Looking toward the northbound MARTA train on Donnelly Avenue SW, West End, Atlanta -
Piedmont Natives: Delaware skipper on Joe Pye weed
Delaware skipper (Anatrytone logan) pollinating Joe Pye weed (Eutrochium purpureum)