Reflections

Slow Howard watches the noon news,
the news breaks, the gutter commercial
comes on, to pass the time
Howard tries his fast draw, he forgot
the round in chamber, a magnum load

hurls a three-fifty-seven slug
at the moron flogging the dangers
of climbing a ladder. Acrid fog clears,
Howard lies back in his recliner as usual,
it's always been this way.

An early fog chills Sylvia Lake,
an old cottonwood leans too far
over the water, falls on its reflection,
lies in the water like nothing happened,
it's always been this way.

Empty Ku

a small woodpecker
on a sunflower head
finds the last one

~

I tell Joan
what's on my mind,
nothing comes out of something

~

below the fog
on Sylvia Lake
an otter in quietude

~

at Bottle Beach
between the falcon
and the sandpiper

~

a full moon
at 3 a.m. –
an empty bed

Mouly Knuts

Stormy days I work at the hardware
selling special tools, extra parts,
miracle goo. Troubly nights I write
the glassware tumbling out of my thinker.

Tonight Cave Sadie and Slow Jones
tumble out, I fabricate Mouly Knuts
and put them in front of the old bank
on Cracker and Main.

I'm walking them to the noodle shop on Cracker
when the radio lady reads a news story
about Mouly Knuts. It's in Nevada,
I'm compelled to drive over for a look-see.

I gas the truck, put my hat on the front seat,
over the .357 revolver,
drive up Main from the south,
park in front of the old bank.

I step out of the truck and reach
for my hat, the revolver slides,
I grab for it and shoot a hole
through the passenger door.

The bullet puts a crack in the bank window,
a crack in the bank window sets off the alarm.
Sheriff Howard is a big man.
Long Sue promenades up,

gives me a wink and a grin,
"Sheriff, I just don't know
what would have become of me
if he hadn't scared that thing off,

he's a gen-u-ine hero.”
I walk Long Sue down Cracker
to the noodle shop and we sit
with Cave Sadie and Slow Jones.

Tomorrow I'll pick up glass at the hardware
and fix the bank's window.

Waving Goodbye

In my early days when I was fit
I'd chase a skirt or two,
I chased Claire's up a mountain,
I chased Becky's on a beach,
I chased the Simpson twins through the zoo,
now I've got the more women
than I can satisfy in a lifetime blues.

I promised Jane a house, Mary a car,
I promised Claire I'd be forever true,
I promised Becky I'd get a job or two,
now I've got the more women with promises
than I can keep in a lifetime blues.

I sit in the tavern sipping a brew,
in walks Mary and Claire,
and the twins are with them too,
Becky points, Jane laughs,
they know each other pretty well
and they're having a good time too,
now I've got the too many women
sitting at a table waving goodbye blues.