Deeplorable Days

Got to sleep in a old holler log
With my musket, my pipe and my dog.
As you city-folk know,
She’s a hard row to hoe;
Dang Corona  done slaughtered ma hog.


Hey there y’all. Jest thought I would tell you what I been up to during this old LOCKDOWN by the dang federals and globalists and teknocrats. Due to Satan, China, and George Soros inflicting this scourge upon our beloved nation, I done had to stay hunkered down in muh cabin with muh fambly. CHINESE  Chest Cold all it is, and I don’t care what the One World Guvermint says, I AINT EATIN’ no BATS. Damn commie Chinese need JESUS I’ll tell you that. Now whar wuz I? Oh yeah:

We pretty much been prayin’ non-stop to the Lord, readin’ our Bibles and listenin’ to daddy Donald on the short-wave television. He shore is smart and we thank God Almighty for him AND his wife what’s-her-name. (She’s real pretty—for a Yuropean that is  . . .) And lucky for us he come up with a good plan to help us all overcome this great tribulation of the Last Days, amen. Presidint Trump is going to take that old W.H.O. down a peg or two. And all them thankless adversaries runnin’ their jaws a-complainin’ all day long kin go figger.  Anyway, we sit around a lot . . . muh wife bakes some cornpone . . . we fry a little bacon any old time. Muh kids play and squabble and ask to borry muh tablet (y’all know how it is) but I cain’t say it’s been easy.  I have touched a drop   a half jug some corn likker, and although I am shamed to say, I have done beat muh dear wife somewhat (but never in front of the little ones and only when she sassed me).

Well, the good news from all these trials and tribulations is:
National Poetry Writing Month is comin’ along real SOON in April! You might not have thunk a ol’ deeplorable hillbilly like me would appreciate POETRY now would you? I hope the president can git everthang on track for all of us soon and we kin all git back to writin’ POEMS in the springtime.

And after the summer gits over we can drag our ol’ knuckles over to the votin’ station and cast our ballots, yes siree.

So that’s how it been here in Hickry Holler tryin’ (as the city slickers and federal agents like to call it)  SOCIALLY DISTANCEing our pore selfs from everthang. I hope you folks is doin’ rightly and see you soon Lord willing.


3 comments on “Deeplorable Days

  1. I just shambled from my bed to my workplace — which is just a step to my desk — and will go to the get a coffee from the kitchen -.- which is just my kitchen — and that’s as far as my leash will reach today, occasional stops in bathroom land notwithstanding. Unique entry into Poetry Writing Month, and much enjoyed here. It brightened my day, which is saying something in these unusual times!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Desdi says:

      Greetings Anna. You are like the robin heralding poetic spring, even if it is a shut-in spring during a plague year.
      Thanks for visiting.
      You probably do not hear the kind of Hillbilly English of my post in Austria (is that where you are?) but glad you liked it.

      Liked by 1 person

      • I am in Austria, yes — considered, I might add, by the Germans as the Hillbilliy of the German-speaking world…I can hear the Hillbilly English just fine, however. Thank that wonders of modern technology which expose us to what we wish to be exposed to!

        Thanks for making me feel better about crawling out of the woodwork come April — I always try to keep going, and I always switch to read-only mode. I am not a failure, I am a robin! Hooray! :)

        Liked by 1 person

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