Thursday, March 24, 2011

Locating Triumphant Moments in a Blizzard




Locating Triumphant Moments in a Blizzard

Tough love from the TV:
gunfighter skeletons splash
spooky Christmas-greens
and reds across
my Lexington, Nebraska
motel room.
The take-out
blueberry pie
tastes as good
as a rock groupie's lips.
The freeway is drifted shut.

I'd temporarily,
only in-this-moment,
be in cowshit
to the belt buckle.
Back home,
the neighbor's kid
stole a True West
T-shirt out of
my mailbox.
In the Jacuzzi
suite next door
two women
are punching
each other,
Cheater-bitch!

I love
this sacred country,
our scorch-'n'-run rituals,
cinema-breasted
pole dancers
who brag
on 4-H steers
they once
raised.



True West magazine has been kind to my poems and to me over the years.  A kid actually did swipe a T-shirt some years back.  He's grown up now and, I hear, doing time in Walla Walla for stealing larger stuff.  As for Lexington, Nebraska, it's a great place to burrow into a motel during a blizzard.

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