has a distinctive twang in his voice.
he talks
in a syrupy, sleepy eyed
way
about the south,
how it will rise again.
i tell him,
don't say that in public, okay?
he's from
Richmond,
but it sounds like he's
gone through a time portal
back to the civil
war.
he has a collection of uniform
buttons
from scouring ancient battle
fields,
tin cups,
and a confederate cookbook
about
how to cook venison
in the middle of a war.
i want to be his friend,
but he makes
it difficult.
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