Tuesday, August 04, 2020
THIS COW TOWN
These plain clothes of mine.
I'm only a boy, green like
the weeds in this lot beside
the bar full of cow men
badly in need of a bath.
I can smell them even
here. The wind picks up
dust off the dirt street, carries
it farther than imagination
can run, farther than
the sheriff will go without
armed men beside him.
That's how this town is.
