Leaving Arizona

Did you think it forever?
I never,
I got tombstone tattooed on my breast

always in all the days on horseback
looking back
I thought two six guns were best

and I shot my few, feuds were
for dudes and cowpokes like me

out on boot hill they still
sing to a banjo,

I know
so quaint,
but it never were and ain’t today like it

sit in the saddle from sunup to sundown
eating dust from every poor town
paydirt in Tucson,

spurs on
and saloon time
and my killing a came being
as I were a willing,
a game of chance
a dance in the death

Saddletramp breath
it gets you
in the end.

© 2016, John Smallshaw.