If Clint Eastwood were to
show up in this poem you
would know it by now,
and so would your nosing
neighbors and their barking
little punk dogs,
and a posse of lawmen
thirsty for blood and
horny for gold.
The world-wide monitor
hermits would hail this
breach like an ancient
ritual three-fold death.
Even this poem would get
on its horse and ride west
in self-counseling silence,
a poem that could have been
something - a poem that by
all accounts was feeling lucky.
It's smoking a hand-rolled
cigar, waiting for two more
poems to keep it company
before it winds its way to a
scorching valley in hell.
9 comments:
Makes good movies... but his politics suck... love the poem... or were you just lucky??? Hee Hee Hee ... Sarah...
No problem! Regardless of politics, he's an icon.
Love it and I think Dirty Harry would approve. And then kick your ass just to get information out of you you didn't know you had.
Even beaten to a pulp, and forever traumatized by the notion of "law enforcement" as I would no doubt forever afterward be, he would somehow impress upon me that it is in fact me that is the lucky punk.
'The thing that haunts a guy is the stuff he wasn't ordered to do' - Walt Kowalski
A poem riding off into the sunset. Sounds intriguing.
I was thinking of the ultimate scenes from the Good, the Bad and the Ugly, heading off to that valley to get the gold buried somewhere amid all the tombstones.
Poems are capable of all kinds of things.
I could only read it in Clint Eastwood voice wow that's funny I tried to stop but I couldn't. Nice
Thank you so much! It was in a voice like his. I drew upon his movies for inspiration for this poem.
Sorry I took so I ong to respond. Been getting out of a horrible funk. Weakness takes a lot to get passed sometimes.
Glad for the read!
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