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January 23, 2006

January 23, 2006

Tell a tale using the word tail.

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At age seven I discovered with certainty that my older brother was a tattle-tail.
I realized, at age twenty-two, my misunderstanding, - tattles don’t have tails.
But that doesn’t change the facts, – he would run to momma at the slightest provocation.

It doesn’t change the picture in my head either. There’s my brother with his head glued to that tattle’s ass, getting whipped around every-which way.

I miss my big brother.

When momma died he had nobody to tell on me. He tried to tell the cops, but I told him to go tell God.

Then I sent him there.

Posted by: kasac at January 23, 2006 10:16 AM · Permalink