SET IN STAND

Had a buddy who'd count from one til he cant count no more soon as he in stand. Sun come up an he stuck on if he aint counted one thousand one hunnert fifty two or fifty three an he come back on it and said all hell with it an just take it from the top. No shit. Some buddies go through they billfolds or figger how much pussy they got in their life. Aint got much so that game end right quick like. How interestin is your goddam license anyhow? Not very I reckon. Me I always try and set myself fixed on my surroundins. What around me an under me and out in front of me. There this one ladder stan we got on the proptee an come rut all them trees across pond way are lit fire an they mirror in the pond an run it all sort of color across the water an if wind pick up it roll out orange an red an brown an it hard to do much else but sit an watch that water roll. May as well, cause bucks aint move in that wind no how.

But when it cold, real cold, come November or December, an you set in stand and not movin an worried bout even your breath keepin you out the hunt an you stare a path round you so hard it wonder the ground not lit fire itself, you begin to think on thing you aint never thought on. Like what relatives look like in they caskets. Aint lyin. Sick morbid shit. Folk been dead ten damn years. Like wonder if that suit still held up or if them pearls lay still round that neck or if they all but bone now or worse, like gone, just nothin but nothin. Aint even dust. An then turn the corner an you find your mind settle on hamburgers. Or steak. Or hamburger steak. Or like what kind gravy works best on chicken fried steak --- white or brown? Or what kind gravy works best on lard biscuits --- sausage or red eye? When you aint done nothin but set in stand since comin dawn an not moved so much as to free a fart you find your mind aint but the craziest bitch on wheels you ever borne witness to.

You set there an the slightest fucken sound, could be jus a grey squirrel, an it sound like the sky done fell. No time worry bout that see as you thinkin about what Polly Sue Honeypot said as she brought to brink first six times you stick your finger in the levee. Or maybe it done moved far past the flesh, even so far as the most profound and re leavin shit session you ever enjoyed. Maybe it about planets or stars or moons. Constellations. Brightest stars you ever seen. Blackest night you ever set under. Brighest fullest moon shot out the sky. Maybe it questions of conscience. Would you kill a man if you had to? Could you kill a man if you had to? If you killed a man and it was an accident, what would you do? Things like such. An then maybe you hear somethin an you lookin for them horns or listenin for them grunts and you aint heard neither and your heart poundin a hammer under them Sears Roebuck coveralls and then you get Polly Sue Honeypot's 'oh gee beh gee zus' or 'jim in eee criskets' tween them two froze ears or you smell two day old Maxwell House in the pan with that hambone and you know then what the best goddam gravy for lard biscuits is. No mind for that buck and his bidness. He show himself when he gooden ready anyhow.