Tonight's Poet Corner: Fuck Huck

Fuck Huck

by Belinda Roddie

Roger "Huck" Fields was a

beer bellied, shotgun-toting,

fever dreaming, conspiracy

theory swigging, moonshine

brewing, Confederate flag

waving, racist and sexist

and homophobic son of a bitch.

Nobody in his neighborhood

liked him, and damn well

they shouldn't.

Fuck Huck.

I don't care if he dotes

on his two admittedly adorable

slobbering pit bulls. I couldn't

give less of a shit that he

volunteers at the soup kitchen

every Sunday. I do not applaud

the sob story he gives about

his father pinching pennies

to give his family a good life.

His dad inherited five hundred

million from his great-uncle.

Fuck Huck. Fuck that guy.

He just pretends he's a

down-to-earth, hands-on,

blue collar kind of guy when

in truth, he's never had to work

a single job in his life and will

be buried in a golden fucking coffin

with all his firearms and boa

constrictor chains of ammunition.

He uses the n-word. He disowned

his gay daughter. He divorced

two wives who were nothing

but sweet to him. And he spray

painted "Blue Lives Matter"

on the stop sign nearby.

Huckleberry Finn would be

shaking his damn head right now.

And he was as backwoods as a latrine.

Fuck Huck.