Cowboy Lean

Cowboy Lean

 

Bronzed hands, cut deep by times consistent

Tributary understanding and the hardship

Of the old rusting Ford’s needs,

Thumbs driven deep into denim wells,

He does the cowboy lean, hips forward

Shoulders back,

Bathes in moonrise, rocks a pagan

Smile, spits blackened chewing jingoism

Fresh from the can, his dim boots kick

Gaia’s dried fruit skin, the golden cross

And straw hat drag his seraphim eyes

Across the wide horizon,                                                      across the wide horizon

He lifts the .22, mispronounces adieu

And the scream of ancient Chinese mystics

escapes the lips of a blued barrel,

heavy coyote eyes blink once.                                              across the wide horizon.

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