Lula Fisk and the Three Corral Boards
what was between them
was empty space three sun-bleached
corral boards
reverend grover's blood stains
still show on the wood
from long ago
lula fisk was keeping
something out not in
she got nailed
ghosts every once in a while
slip between the corral boards
they drift in to where the horse was buried
reverend grover had to walk back in to town that day
lula fisk had the aweful task of shoveling dirt over the baby's grave
the sun was hot like hell the prairie watched it all go down
the fenceposts saw it too
and to patch it up three white boards
were pulled off the side of the church
those would be the ones to replace where the horse was tied
ghosts every once in a while
slip between the corral boards
lye boiling in the wash tub
they pass by the yard to the church
piano struck a chord the pews old with repeated sins
lula fisk sitting in the saloon
bedsheets hanging out on the line to dry
horsehair and hemp rope ghosts every once in a while
wyatt earp looking for that piece of cord
deputized doc holliday
combing every rope and twine
lula fisk mail-order bride
drug the heavy deacon's bench with her
seat stuffed with horsehair and hemp rope
source of the cord
she came to the wrong door
I didn't tell her any different she got nailed
Copyright Ms. Sage Sweetwater, Celebrity firebrand lesbian novelist
Micki
Ron