the road to halfway is open

the road to Halfway is open at last -
and she has just discovered that
the day that starts over all
the yesterdays does deserve 
a kiss goodbye. even love that
turned out to be something
other deserves a ribbon for "best
try, under the circumstances."

it is the lifetime rodeo and she has
her new number now, and with it 
a water bottle, the radio on - but
no old stations to sing with.
the grateful road down valley
lies behind, and there is only the new.

no one is the judge of that, whatever
they actually think. first, you have
to buy it, but that credit card
is cut to little pieces, and just in
time. the new adventure awaits.

rocks and holes and limbs
and dirt clod the byway - sticks and
stones, you know! still it is okay
to wave farewell to your own past,
mistakes and delights alike, like a
century's worth of rodeo queens,
or like all the unwatched stems 
of bunch grass over on the prairie.

the drive-by begins. there's gas and
a wrench for flats, a sandwich
and even a cell phone, should the
road crest high and there be
signal enough to carry the brand
new story out into life and its new home.

news from a small town 29, June 2011

fable

at some point you make a choice
to get off the high horse
or to stay up there, stuck
like a balloon on the power line.

it will become our job as
good neighbors to ignore the change
or to exclaim over it –
perhaps with embellishments.

it is predictable: all that
passion wasted, and not even
a good bar fight to show for it.
look deep for one more round.

news from a small town 28, June 2011

summer changeover

under the mailbox
paper wasp's nest -

inside, one yellow flyer
 
news from a small town 27, June, 2011

vixen

scroungy little vixen
oblivious to company -

straws among spring greens
 

news from a small town 26, June 2011

local controls

post-holiday tradition

clack your beak, O eagle
over fresh placenta
in the fields -- january
is the season for calving
here, and steaming
fresh delicacies abound

cowboy qasida

claiming rightness, the truck slides
left over the stripes. Shall I shake

my fist or model evasiveness?
right or the other right, which

shall it be? You sumvabetcha -
just because you drive a big rig 

with naked girls on the flaps, do you
think you own the whole damn road?

of course you do, and so do I. time
for a showdown on the road to

the OK Quarter-Circle corral. I move
aside, for I know something you don’t -

where the young cop Charlie
is hanging out, speed gun in hand.

I'll show you manners for now, but
not an ounce of pity when I pass you by.

For Ty's pop
(you know where you are)

“$720 to go move another man’s cows – there’s
something not right about that,” you groan, and
while you are right, that is not the reason
anyone has ever done it. this morning breaks with
the first hard rain in months and snow in the
forecast. well, you promised us good stories.
let’s see how you do. meanwhile, friends around
the campfire, and we know that’s not a bottle of milk
you have in your bedroll. take a slug, grain your horses.

news from a small town 25, May 2011

qasida for a public meeting

at a public meeting in the county,
people fill the cracks between
the lightning bursts of agreement
or inspiration with murmurs.
they are soft and comfortable, often 
like mac-and-cheese – but mostly
harsh and char-burned: either
hard to stomach in quantity.
but look, you can make space
for yourself in here somewhere!
you can choose what pleases you
and the company that feeds you.
or ... you can duck and run. its just -
the casual or the civil is hard
to maintain; the thrilling - a wreck
in process. but you get to decide.
embracing the impossible-to-avoid
may be a virtue – or it may not.
you see, attachment to detachment -
complicates things. temperatures rise.
human beings: all the rattle, the bang.
his thunder/her echo: and wait for it,
just there, cooling on the counter–
a tepid cup of coffee-flavored tea.

news from a small town 24, May 2011