Southern Style
As a child, I was never bored
I spent hours gawking
going through my mother's
home decorating magazines
seeing things I'd never seen
that we could never afford
So full of spacious Southern homes
described as “gracious”
all wrapped in white porches with
white wicker chairs, clean, pristine
untouched, untainted
by 'common' people
and poverty
When they said “gracious”
they didn't mean
universally welcoming
But there were other issues
featuring “rustic” things
cabins and sheds, antique folk art
and cast iron beds
carefully curated collections
of antiquated stuff...
and these were my favorite fads by far
Yes, I thought- here was something
a style more attainable
for the likes of me
Rough, aged structures with
cracks in the walls
like my great aunt's hundred-year-old
cabin, except
theirs were prettier
than hers, all gussied up-
without the necessary utilities
utensils and ugliness
of everyday life
Theirs were not
actual homes, but mere display cases
for fancy flea-market finds
a backyard curiosity
not an actual place to live- because
Oh no- they would never consider
actually
living there
For there is nothing picturesque
about poverty
Copyright © Rhona Mcferran | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment