my girl, she does rolling stops with no turn-signal
no seat-belt
on back-county roads
out where there ain’t no cops
headin into town
to meet me at the liquor store
where we put a fresh case on the floorboard
of her truck
and i’ll say hey
now
what do you know there
horse woman
and she’ll say
hey now what do you know there farm man
and i’ll go well i guess i just don’t know what the hell i’m supposed to do
and she’ll go oh poor you, boo-hoo
you see ours is a two-ranch romance
she works her daddy’s land, called “Seven on a Stump”
and i work mine, the “Circle Bar Bar”
so she’s all-day handling horses while i’m
seeing my crops do fine and such
but come sundown we get up to our backroads tricks
just about pissin our britches with beercan antics
and occasional long kisses
in steamed-up cabs
and on tailgates
and i know some time soon
i’ll be behind her long about dawn
amen, down on my very knock-kneed old pray-bones
no she’s not not my cousin, no she’s not yours
and your hero here he gonna
take that morning ride for sure
and then one day it’ll be
her and me
down at the courthouse
or some little church you know
i’ll be makin an honest woman of her
soon as she gets
rid
of her good-for-nothing babypappy
sitting around on his hands
just a hanger-on
yes soon as
she gets full say so
& full
custody
of her kid i see
her and me taking that morning ride
but for now i’m satisfied
with the crunch of gravel under tires
crumpled cans in the ditch
and her laughter peeling out over the fields
under the clear-shining country-night stars