"Do not trust the cheering; those persons would shout as much if you or I were going to be hanged."
Day 268, Tuesday, February 23rd
Excolo
Morning
They found me guilty.
Who'd have thought? I told the right story, wore the right faces, appealed to all that was good and honest in them, and they didn't believe me.
My parents, they up and passed when I was none than three.
I forced myself onto my brother, made him watch me swell.
When we’d sit round the kitchen table he would whip out his brand new blade.
He’d scratch out words into the wood of the table, I never could tell what they say.
But I could tell they were dirty.
I brought them words on down to the elementary, I pulled them boys behind the elementary wall and I spoke them words hard - yeah I did...
They let you sing in jail, which is oh so kind of them. My throat's still raw, but I pay it no mind. It won't matter. I'll get free and get gone, find someone, and it'll be right as rain, same as my side. That'll be fine too, when I can eat.
The hunger's still there, but it feels blunt. Like the carrion bird nicked it with her knife when she shoved it under my ribs. She hasn't come by to see me since the trial. She must know I didn't mean any harm - it was just words, after all, trying to protect myself, to win free. It hurts a lot.
Then the big black bull come down hard offen the flatbed, forced himself inside the pen with the she-cow. He stood up tall on two legs, like a man does, he swoll himself up hard. Me myself I stood up tall on the flatbed, I pitched when I saw them sway. When that bull he come back down to four legs, my brother forced himself onto the flatbed, he handed me his brand new blade, said ‘scratch out the words on the wood of the flatbed,’
-and I did....
They're rough when they come to get me. I suppose they think hanging's too good for me, but it must be Excolo all over again because when I take one's head in my hands to snap his neck he twists free and then I'm spitting out teeth. Strange, that. Mine have always sat pretty solid.
The deputy comes along then, late, and they take me to the north edge of town. I guess they changed their minds, but no there's a tree all of planks, facing away from Excolo. At least I won't be looking at the damn town.
My mouth hurts, but I manage to tear some flesh off one's cheek before they club me down again. It's hard to stand after that, and they need to hold me up for the rope. There's blood in my throat but I manage to keep my head up and sing
When I was none, I fell out my mamma, I was a breach born son, I come backwards.
And then the calf come, it come, like I come, he come backwards.
And my brother he called the calf my name, and its mother she called the calf my name...
Where's Zann, with her fingers buzzing in my mouth, or Danika with her bloodied grin or Genny with her golden hair or the carrion bird with her teeth or or or
Excolo
Morning
They found me guilty.
Who'd have thought? I told the right story, wore the right faces, appealed to all that was good and honest in them, and they didn't believe me.
My parents, they up and passed when I was none than three.
I forced myself onto my brother, made him watch me swell.
When we’d sit round the kitchen table he would whip out his brand new blade.
He’d scratch out words into the wood of the table, I never could tell what they say.
But I could tell they were dirty.
I brought them words on down to the elementary, I pulled them boys behind the elementary wall and I spoke them words hard - yeah I did...
They let you sing in jail, which is oh so kind of them. My throat's still raw, but I pay it no mind. It won't matter. I'll get free and get gone, find someone, and it'll be right as rain, same as my side. That'll be fine too, when I can eat.
The hunger's still there, but it feels blunt. Like the carrion bird nicked it with her knife when she shoved it under my ribs. She hasn't come by to see me since the trial. She must know I didn't mean any harm - it was just words, after all, trying to protect myself, to win free. It hurts a lot.
Then the big black bull come down hard offen the flatbed, forced himself inside the pen with the she-cow. He stood up tall on two legs, like a man does, he swoll himself up hard. Me myself I stood up tall on the flatbed, I pitched when I saw them sway. When that bull he come back down to four legs, my brother forced himself onto the flatbed, he handed me his brand new blade, said ‘scratch out the words on the wood of the flatbed,’
-and I did....
They're rough when they come to get me. I suppose they think hanging's too good for me, but it must be Excolo all over again because when I take one's head in my hands to snap his neck he twists free and then I'm spitting out teeth. Strange, that. Mine have always sat pretty solid.
The deputy comes along then, late, and they take me to the north edge of town. I guess they changed their minds, but no there's a tree all of planks, facing away from Excolo. At least I won't be looking at the damn town.
My mouth hurts, but I manage to tear some flesh off one's cheek before they club me down again. It's hard to stand after that, and they need to hold me up for the rope. There's blood in my throat but I manage to keep my head up and sing
When I was none, I fell out my mamma, I was a breach born son, I come backwards.
And then the calf come, it come, like I come, he come backwards.
And my brother he called the calf my name, and its mother she called the calf my name...
Where's Zann, with her fingers buzzing in my mouth, or Danika with her bloodied grin or Genny with her golden hair or the carrion bird with her teeth or or or