InaBell Sale - Greg Brown

InaBell is dead, Savior, and we pray that Thou wouldst give us the strength

To lift her and carry her to her grave.

InaBell is dead, and, Jesus, we’ll

Never again hear her gravel-on-the-window voice, her tail-in-the-door

Voice.

We’ll never again see her goiter shake like an old apple in a

Windstorm.

InaBell is dead and gone home to Thee, oh Precious

Lord.

Welcome her with open arms and spread 'em wide.

She’s dead, oh

Precious Lamb, we’re sure of it this time.

She went over in her kitchen

With a thud, scattering her Chicken Surprise for her ill-tempered, little

Pop-eyed, slobbering dog, who ate most of it.

InaBell is dead and gone and

Left us here to carry on and carry her big, fat, annoying ass out to the

Grave and bury her deep so she won’t get up even in dreams to HOLLER HER

INSANE SHIT AT US!

THANK YOU, JESUS!

THANK YOU, LORD, FOR TAKING

INABELL!

I bet she was hard to lift, even for Thee

InaBell is dead.

She killed her husband, poor old Pete.

She screamed and

Hollered him to death with her helium woodpecker voice, pulled at him and

Yelled at him and hit him and screamed at him until he had fits and slapped

His own face and talked in tongues (talks in tongues) at the dinner

Table.

OH, SWEET JESUS CHRIST!

INABELL IS FINALLY

DEAD!

HALLELUJAH!

HALLELUJAH AND AMEN!

There’s a big sale on Tuesday.

Big sale on Tuesday, who will buy her angry

Purse, forty pounds of frozen pot pies?

Who will buy her stiff hairnets

For failed perms, her fly-speckled glasses?

Who will buy her girdle that

Didn’t?

Who will buy her hippo bra, and her nylons that woulda fit

Pylons?

Hey!

Who’llgivemeanickelwho’llgivemeadimewho’llgivemeanickelwho’llgivemeadime

Who’ll give me sumpin' for this SHIT?!

Who’ll buy the little plastic

Church that used to light up, the busted pink hairdryer, and half a carton

Of menthol cigarettes?

Who will buy her cracked bowling ball and enough

Knickknacks to sink the Titanic?!

Who will buy her sidewalk made out of

Storm doors and cardboard and a blown Pontiac full of sparrows and

Saplings?

Oh, who will buy?

Who will buy?

Step right up!

Who will

Buy?

Who will buy?

Who will buy?

Put a big ol' stone on top of her that says, «InaBell finally shutup and

Kicked the bucket!»

Big sale on Tuesday