This Poem was Submitted By: Jana Buck Hanks On Date: 2004-07-28 15:27:56 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Dining with Coon

I am 4 years old. Pearl and Dan invited us for Sunday dinner, the table is set with pretty china and beer cans. Daddy and Dan laugh a lot, Momma and Pearl bring food to the table;   corn bread, fresh green beans, butter topped sweet potatoes, red and yellow slices of tomato, and meat. The meat looks funny like a baked cat or maybe a small dog but I am polite and sit on the Sears and Robuck as Daddy fixes my plate. Just a little bit of everything to try, he points at the meat asks me if I want some “Coonie?” He grins at me. I scream in shame! My face turns red with plopping tears, I cover my eyes  with my hands as I sob… Everyone is looking at me, mouths in wide wide “O’s;” then it dawns  on Daddy what he has asked… They should have taught me  the real name for my private parts!

Copyright © July 2004 Jana Buck Hanks

Additional Notes:
Ah, the memories of childhood!


This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2004-08-01 10:00:18
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.46154
I am so grateful I have no such memories to fall back on.......we ate the same food each day of the week.....we drank soda only with spaghetti as it was too costly for the family to have......bread and milk was one meal I loved sprinkled with lots of sugar.........good structure, very sad in my thoughts though to think such things happen .........images of your little four year old frame do jump out at me my friend, I can hear your screams even as I type. Good job......be safe and thanks for posting, God Bless, Claire


This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne Duval Morgan On Date: 2004-07-30 17:23:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Jana, your critique has been right here on the puter, it's me not enough energy to do any reasonable comments, I used to do many more critiques, now I do critiquing only when I can tolorate sitting at the dest, the rest of the time I'm asleep sorry to say. Anyhow not ceing familiar with the term coon, but only in junjunction with the actual animal, and I was aware certain folks do consume it, that's why the inferencve to the animinal and a private body part threw me. However in the gist of the intent, I knw all of us have eaten something not to favorable when we were kids, not necessarilary just a subject from a logistics point of view. My Dad had Rhode Island Red chickens, you know the hen house and fenced in gravel worn area they birds occupied, which was ok, but being a Kids it never dawned on me why, until one Day Dad entered the chicken yard and grabbed ahold of a chicken, and proceeded to ring and chop off it's head, chean it internerally, and take all the feathers off, brought it into Mom and she prepared it like many foods, it just was the day of awareness for me. Truthfully I've never ordered chicken in a restaurant, nor eaten the birds to often, why, because Dad took a pet, or what we preceived a pet and turned it into food. Just do not prefer chicken at all. Can't say I've ever had a reference to food and body parts related quite like you did though, no wonder you retain sure a vivid memory. The poem is written with clarity, using phrases that lend beautifully to the meaning, a life event, wow, what a memory. Your writing beautiful memories, using all the poetic tools, and it's great to see. Pretty hard to pick up the phone and just chat with you, I miss that, but on the other had to see all these great memories it print, is so enjoyable, and maybe it times to submit to different poetry outlets and see, this writing needs to be shared. Maybe you should consider, if you talk to Aunty I'm sure she could point you in the right diresction and bet she'd agree with me, time to publish. Continue at this clip and there's no doubt there is a big following out there. I wish you Bright Blessings, and maybe a poem of the compassion you and yours have for people who need help, you have that ability also. Jana I wish I could comment more, like I used to, but I just can't anymore. Nothing against any of the poets, just not enough stamina. Love and God Bless, always, Jo
This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-07-28 21:01:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.84211
Jana--An engaging persona poem which appears to be literal, with the speaker and protagonist being one and the same. Also a free verse that uses plain language to relate an uncomplicated and humorous, although, embarrassing childhood story. Descriptors of the meal created vivid imagery that had me drooling for a plate of same (I was raised on this type food and still will partake occassionally). I enjoyed the offering overall: nice, but sparse allits (laugh a lot; scream in shame; dawns on Daddy; he has; private parts) great simile in strophe #7. The piece could be made tighter by combining some of the 15 stanzas (as is-a tad verbose). Thanks for sharing a personal glimpse with your effort. TLW
This Poem was Critiqued By: G. Donald Cribbs On Date: 2004-07-28 16:44:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Jana, You've done an amazing job of weaving the whimsical with the blunt reality of things from childhood memories and ways people parent their children. I was totally enthralled reading this one, caught with the question of what would happen and what "coon" meant. I was expecting a more redneck idea of it...what daddy got while hunting sort of thought. So, the ending was a big surprise. Your structure works well, and draws the reader through the meal, and I found myself sitting at the table too, waiting to find out what was going to happen. Thank you very much for sharing this, and for so deftly weaving two opposing forces (funny and serious) into one great poem. Warm regards, Don
This Poem was Critiqued By: Wayne R. Leach On Date: 2004-07-28 16:17:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.88000
Bet you can see me grinning ear to ear. Thanks for the ride back down memory lane, although "my parts" are different, I can relate because I was pretty shy and was embarrassed sometimes as a youngster, too. The staccato-like quality of the lines/stanzas make this a fast-moving read, as it should be. I found myself propelled down the poem from that effect, to reach that hilarious [but, not at the time] ending. Excellent job, Jana. Very enjoyable, down to earth images. Robuck - [Roebuck, I believe] Best regards, wrl
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-07-28 15:55:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Oh, Jana! This breaks my heart. This won't be one of my line-by-line critiques, but -- sigh -- you made this poem so real to me I feel as though I've just relived the experience with you. I wanted to smile at the end, of the little girl's distress over being offered something to eat (an animal) called by the same nickname as her 'private parts' but it made me sad. For some reason it triggered memories for me which are different - and separate in time and space - but the feelings are quite surprisingly still there. This is one of your great strenghts as a writer, I believe, in that your work often stimulates an emotional response - at least for me - and makes an indelible impression. Ok -- the two memories this piece sparked for me. One, when I was four years old, I had a pet rabbit, and thought that as a good 'mother' to the bunny, I should give it a bath. I did, and wrapped it up in a 'towel' (really, an old scatter rug) and then in the way of very small children, forgot about it. Then a week or so later at Easter dinner, my mother dished up fried rabbit, gravy and mashed potatoes for me. After I took a few delicious bites, my grandmother told me that that was my bunny! Like the child in the poem: "I scream in shame! My face turns red with plopping tears, I cover my eyes with my hands as I sob…" The second memory evoked was similar but different. My Momma and Daddy and I are at the dinner table, on an ordinary evening. Our plates are dished up -- similar food as you have listed "-corn bread, fresh green beans, butter topped sweet potatoes, (except, white Idaho potatoes) red and yellow slices of tomato, and meat." And then I am distracted for a few moments and turn away from the table. When I turn back, there is a rubber alligator on my plate. At that young age, I don't see the humor in it, but scream in shock and surprise. I wonder how many other readers will react with memories of their own? I think this deserves to be published. I wonder if Retrozine might not be delighted to include this one in their next publication? They are temporarily on hiatus, but I have a feeling will be back soon. One of my older poems, "Weather Report" published here as "Me at Six" is on the site. I think this poem is quite good and would like to see it have a wider readership. All my best, Joanne
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