Hierophany

At one boiling bubble
a minute, my brain simmers.
Someone had to help her
start her car.
Someone showed up
with jumper cables
but no car.
And no insurance.
Cell phones
didn’t work out there.
Out where?
Oh, out where
the tracks still run,
where I’ve got cowboys
in dusty leather
on mean-hungry horses
waitin for the next load,
the next big thing.

They aren’t internet cowboys.
They don’t believe in
price tags, or
interest rates.
Not even belt buckles
or smiled ruined
by chew.
At the end of the day,
it’s all about stew
and cornbread:
a sauce for everything
poured on wounds
makes them whole.

Let’s see, is it
red on black
or black on black,
and why won’t this thing go?

This entry posted by J Rand : 11:00