Dear Redneck son

Dearest Redneck Son...

I'm writing this slow because I know you can't read fast.
We don't live where we did when you left home.
Your Dad read in the newspaper that most accidents
happen within 20 miles of your home, so we moved.

I won't be able to send you the address
because the last family that lived here
took the house numbers when they moved
so they wouldn't have to change their address. 

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Photos by Don Rapelje

About that coat you wanted me to send;
your Uncle Billy Bob said it would
be too heavy to send in the mail
with the buttons on, so we cut them off
and put them in the pockets.

Bubba locked his keys in the car yesterday.
We were really worried because it took him two
hours to get me and your father out.

Your sister had a baby this morning,
but I haven't found out what it is yet, so I don't know if you are an aunt or uncle.

Uncle Bobby Ray fell into a whisky vat last week.
Some men tried to pull him out,
but he fought them off and drowned.
We had him cremated. He burned for three days.

Three of your friends went
off a bridge in a pickup truck.
Butch was driving.
He rolled down the window and swam to safety.
The other two were in the back.
They drowned because they couldn't
get the tailgate down.

There isn't much more news at this time.
Nothing much out of the normal has happened.

                                    Your Favorite Aunt