Access the full text.
Sign up today, get DeepDyve free for 14 days.
References for this paper are not available at this time. We will be adding them shortly, thank you for your patience.
ET ^ « '\ Sl -*- s« %. \ /O ? \ r 7M Sv f( W; '¦ I fc ïf *f ztfflÁa/ac/tám ^oÁ/tcnic/ea by Betty James There beside the road, the daisies bloom, And he walks stiff-legged, Maybe knowing he has grown old walking these roads, Seeing the winters come and go, and summers, and time Taking him nowhere. He had a cat once. It chased a squirrel inside the walls And got hung there, And when he took the axe to cut it out, he killed the goddamned thing. Not meaning to. It just happened that way. He missed that cat, though, now it was gone. He didn't like anybody. Especially not Democrats, And not cows, and he hated mules, And most times, he didn't care what month or day or year it was. People liked to talk about the weather, How bad the next winter was going to be, or how hot the summer was. Hell, he didn't care. All that as little use as knowing how to read or write. He let on to everyone he had a girlfriend somewhere, And maybe he did, and maybe he didn't, Walking the road to see her
Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press
Published: Jan 8, 1980
Read and print from thousands of top scholarly journals.
Already have an account? Log in
Bookmark this article. You can see your Bookmarks on your DeepDyve Library.
To save an article, log in first, or sign up for a DeepDyve account if you don’t already have one.
Copy and paste the desired citation format or use the link below to download a file formatted for EndNote
Access the full text.
Sign up today, get DeepDyve free for 14 days.
All DeepDyve websites use cookies to improve your online experience. They were placed on your computer when you launched this website. You can change your cookie settings through your browser.