“My standard is: when in Rome do as you done in Milledgeville.”–Flannery O’Connor
I don’t lead a monk’s or a martyr’s life.
Lord knows I’ve courted the Seven Deadlies
sure as any other Baldwin County
saint. The devil shows up on a daily
basis in these parts. The farm is rife
with his dirty doings. To know him
when you see him takes a cloudless eye.
Local folk are forever sniffin’ up sin.
We smell it sure as some smell peach pie,
the hot sweet fruit of it, the lusty crust.
I do what I can and what I must—
though I’m still led into temptation
whenever I wander beyond these walls.
The customs I keep cushion my fall.
Like this post? Subscribe to have new posts sent to you by email the same day they are posted.
Leave a Reply