I just
wanted to
build corrals
pound some flathead
nails unwind in cripple
creek casinos play some poker
discard the devil's jokers
robert e lee
said to me war
wasn't meant to be civil
horsemeat had to be eat sherman
had four horses shot out from under him
sweetwater you got 'em beat your rebel soul
writing orders from your big chief tablet atop
mt pisgah hill hell I reckon you know at least something
about the night of the foal
madam devere
said to me whores
service the preacher
they take the dollar of
the white collar whose sin
resides between the cloven hoof
of the wild boar and mine in the
bottle morphine believe in reincarnation
you're a sage wise you'll meet a fiery red ace
in between just like me she'll play a tent scene
her owl addicted to the red light garters and lace
discard is not an option she's proctor and daughter
she'll see you through what's right it's not in the bible
this night her disappointments like yours the fallen have at
least some saving grace
This seems to me to have more structure than your usual, but every bit as much of your wonderful imagery. You are certainly a child of the old west and your vision of the ethos is crystal clear. Your poetry is definately an inspiration....
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Chip Bergeron