Cold rain falls in the river, flows down to the sea, gets into the skyline, circles endlessly. Same old rain on the wind, same old pain in my soul.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The long Ride

I was ridin in from south fork
The noon sun crackin the dusty clay
Below me, the way too much cold does
A frozen lake

Lady kept her head down
And her thirst fell in gobs
From her bit
While I talked her through
The sage brush

I needed a drink
And buffalo pass held one

Boredom hangs heavy
In august and the stew turns thick
in restless pants

So when the short stocky one left
To fix a wagon
I sat in
Don't rightly know why as
Winnin n losin's all the same to me
but like I said-

I held my own without really tryin
Mostly just sipped the warm beer
And watched townsfolk pass
By out the smoky window

Then the one fella with the torn hat
Got edgy,
as his feed money disappeared.
I shoulda walked
I knowed I should've
But i took another drink and threw in
Same as the rest

Funny thing is,
Blazes to hell,
Is i drew aces full over jacks
Without even carin

As i looked around the sorry table,
I remembered winnin hands from afore.
They never led to no good
And weren't nothing i needed anyhow

So's i slip an ace up my sleeve, see,
Slide down a deuce
easy as a sneeze
And call, just like the rest,
An easy way out i figger

Well sir

Damned if two pair didn't
Sweep the table

I lit a smoke and looked to the window
As my rotten luck laughed
And the others grumbled
And sauntered home to tell lies

I didn't buy a round
No sense encouraging fools,
But i slipped the bar maid with ratty hair
and torn stockings twenty bucks
and went out to find lady quenched
And sleeping

Now here i am

sure as snow in the sierras,
Snake bit in hell's gulch new mexico
With a purse full
Of fool's gold
and Lady spent