A Poltice from a Coultas
In tracing a passage through grass, lacking physical
evidence I turn to
the language of ….
A horse of a different color A
Stop Horsing around
Hold your Horses
Flogging a dead Horse
Rode hard and put up wet
Chomping at the bit
Oh Horse hockey!
Shake a leg, y’all being helped on? Money burning a
hole in your pocket (when he said this, a silver
dollar was a slug of silver)
Whoa nellie whoa
Quit skylarking around
I’ll jerk a knot in your tail
Barn door’s open and your horse is getting out
Stand by while I try to revive these dead horses.
Soon I was writing in the language of horse drawn days
Here apply this to your sore tooth, it’s a
poltice from a Coultas.
Shove it in your crown of burly leaves
Find a better use for tobacco other than to kill my
father, make a doily for the arms of chairs. Although
these tobacco plates leave a tar ring
I’ve churned their own words
Count on your chicken which are hatching or all
resting in one basket
Get your Bacon caught in a ringer
Like a mule at a trough or silk ear stolen from a
I’m sorting needles in the sun while the haystack
milk milk lemonade
round the corner
fudge is made.
We sang she’ll be coming around the mountain when she
comes , and of the old cotton fields back home and we
have neither mountians nor cotton fields. We have
tobacco worms, tumble bugs and june bugs
She’ll be riding 6 white horses when she comes she’ll
be riding 6 white horses when she comes
whereas inreality we ride one white pony
The old books, unprotected from humanity which I took
with me because I need another language
Who readThe Carpetbagger?
“Take your shoes off at the bridge.” My Grandpa said,
“We’re entering Kentucky.”