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At the bonehouse
Book
1998
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For the Boy in Bayou Blue Who Spoke in Tongues When he was twelve, he made the national news to his parents' delight and filled the pews of the Living Word with gaggles of girls and tourists eager to hear the sermon he's planned for a Current Affair . His long, curly hair and sparkly eyes glowed when he's share his witness with the congregation. He'd shout and swoon and lash his tongue while rows fell out rolling in ecstasy around his raised  pulpit. It pleased the deacons when the crazed, fainting crowds filled their baskets with money, but no one wondered when his eyes rolled a funny  white back into his head as if he were reading from cards inside his skull, or if the Spirit would come  and improvise the whole show for him while his mouth spewed syllables like phlegm. Excerpted from At the Bonehouse by Jack Bedell All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
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Summary
Storytelling is integral to the culture of south Louisiana, particularly the Atchafalaya Basin, where Jack Bedell grew up. Raised, however, with a generation of south Louisianans taught to act Middle American rather than Acadian, Bedell attempts in his poetry to recapture a culture. The poems in At the Bonehouse record the successes and failures of his search to discover what shaped him.



Through his narrative poetry, Bedell provides an accurate representation of the landscape of the region and makes sense of its culture and people. His poems reflect the images and experiences common to Acadiana-saltwater marshes and cypress swamps; cleaning redfish, hunting teal, listening to the broken tones in an old oil-field worker's voice-making the region and its inhabitants accessible to a wider audience and at the same time bringing him closer to understanding himself and his heritage.



For the Boy in Bayou Blue

Who Spoke in Tongues



When he was twelve, he made the national news

to his parents' delight and filled the pews

of the Living Word with gaggles of girls and

tourists eager to hear the sermon he's planned

for a Current Affair . His long, curly hair

and sparkly eyes glowed when he's share

his witness with the congregation. He'd shout

and swoon and lash his tongue while rows fell out

rolling in ecstasy around his raised

pulpit. It pleased the deacons when the crazed,

fainting crowds filled their baskets with money,

but no one wondered when his eyes rolled a funny

white back into his head as if he were reading from

cards inside his skull, or if the Spirit would come

and improvise the whole show for him

while his mouth spewed syllables like phlegm.
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