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Duh Measur'n Rod
By Asili Ya Nadhiri
I reck'n mama yeah'bout beat
daddy'duh death,
wit lil'l less'n'uh quarter;
cose dat wuz all he brung home
next'duh hurs
--dat wuz all dey'd gib'm fuh'is
balls.
huh . . . reck'n eben I kind'uh help'it long too
it make daddy take'duh cross'is
hands in'is lap,
sit'n back dere on'duh doe step.
uh reck'n dat wuz his way uh,
guard'n what li'l mem'ry he had left
daddy use'duh wear dat ol wool
suit in'duh summertime
use'duh waer dat old thin suit
in'duh win'ih . . .
uh dont nevah membuh see'n daddy
sweating,
didn't nevuh see'm shak'n from'duh cold
daddy use'duh stand dere fuh hours at'duh time,
jes look'n out dere ovuh Uncle
Tank's 'bacco field
--dat is,
til dat "soil bank" thang come'n took'it
now daddy jes sit n hum tuh'm'self
rite dere, on dem back doe step;
hummmm'n n'uh look'n off yonduh
jes like he look'n fuh sump'n . . . *
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