“What the heck is this thing?” I ask myself.
Is it a spittoon for a cowboy ring?
Perhaps it’s a cacti condo of sorts,
maybe a maze that mice use for playing?
Is it a spittoon for a cowboy ring?
Nights under stars with a big wad of chew,
campfire songs about the Red River Valley,
spittin’ and singin’ ‘til daylight is new.
Perhaps it’s a cacti condo of sorts,
adobe art for prickly plants to call home,
sitting on a yard made of rock and sand,
cactus castle beside a garden gnome.
Maybe a maze that mice use for playing,
dashing through the holes, a game of hide and seek.
Whatever it is, I’m tired of writing,
of a pic I’ll forget within a week.
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