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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