emptied my trash

made the bed

my reflections in my sunglasses

delivered the poem

she liked it

she has a cold

her voice is hoarse

words I know how to spell

elude me

and the turning of the page

and poof the line is gone

the women in my life are unnamed

it’s a no go in poetry

hurt feelings for being mentioned

hurt feelings for not being mentioned

and in the end a bitter fantasy

my back to the door

but no cards on the table

no aces and eights

before the flash and boom

startled everyone in the room

and Wild Bill became resident in a myth

and stories told in mining camps

and around cowboy fires

and penny dreadfuls

along with Custer

Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse

tales of daring do and sacrifice

most of us just along for the ride

survivors or victims on the incoming tide

the poetry lends itself

to a kaleidoscope  of images

seen only in the poet’s mind

there will be hell to pay on

another gray day




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