Hams of August Smother

Hams of August Smother The folks are angry, really. They can’t explain the diaper, yet they would explain poor Jack. It’s a plot, you see, to show poor Jack’s been had. Folks can’t see why no matter what Jack does, even if he scrubs in water warm enough to soften turnips, sheathes himself in eaus, colognes, dons, perhaps, a silk of talc, folks can’t see why the night still squats on Jack, jiggling its hams of August smother. Or why the cleric in the courtyard chants, ”Elements of Jack will always reek.” It’s a plot, you see, to show poor Jack’s been had. That’s why the folks are angry, really; they can’t explain the diaper, yet they would explain poor Jack. Donal Mahoney