For most of us,
early dawn duelers
were out of our league. But me,
I ache to duel at sunbreak,
a six shooter is a Labrador
for those taken by loneliness, like I am.
That draw is a dignity I don’t know.
That quick is a valor of the moon.
There is a distinct type of afternoon,
the kind that casts sane on your loss,
draws break to your cozy,
and shatters the delicious pint glass
in between.
Dirty is a foreign lust,
leather’s an obscure thing.
The boots, they’re too stiff,
and the jeans don’t fit,
but the saloon’s ripe
for a gentlemanly
nasty old gunfight.
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