matchstick strikes
on the rowel, avenging
flames rise from my spur
cobra'd around my heel, clean
from walking centuries of ether,
when my earth boot hits dirt, spur
strap'll take leave of its venom, rise
upward, dart forward, spit religiously
in the eye of ill-fate no friend of mine,

on my way
to Lago, town's
alias is Hell painted
red to avenge evil's twin,

whiskey promotes
my vindication, whore
buys me some time, one
trick pony will carry my saddlebags
across its lathered flesh, I won't stop
until I reach the Pony Express corrals,
they'll loan me a fresh horse,

sagebrush's colt
will startle me, he'll
come out of nowhere
destined to ride along
side me, his story will be
told in the winds of renewal,
he'll have a scar over his heart,
he'll run in circles around me like
Saturn's rings trying to take leave
of what it is that ties us as kindred
spirits, you know who I really am, you
know.

Copyright 4.16.2010 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist