For Craig Sweem
Thank You for Introducing Me to the Big Horns
And Sheridan Wyoming
Gandy Dancer
Steel,
cold, hard, heavy,
steel sings, ring.
Gandy Man,
blisters upon your hands,
understand life’s lot.
Blue, so very god damned blue,
is the color that I choose,
just a starrin down at my tattered,
hiking shoes.
Grey,
grey is the color of my pants,
as yet one more,
of they’re working ants.
Writing my poems by the light
of a kerosene lamp,
my arms too tired,
to slide under my pillow,
looking toward another day closer
to a future filled with great white hope,
but a night time filled warding off
the smell of industrial soap.
An Alone Poem
I was all alone
at Kendricks Crossing, Wyoming
sitting Indian style on the rough wood
of a Burlington Northern Railroad
flat bed car.
Discussing life with an itinerant hobo,
when he jumped up and left
a half empty pail of rail spikes
along with his hammer.
For the beckoning call
of an open door
on a Burlington Northern/Santa Fe rail car.
Leaving me alone
to watch the sunsets
silhouetted against the ridges of the Big Horns.
Dying with the dull aching
in the muscles of my arms
between the lines
of one of my powder snow poems.
Written in Sheridan, Wyoming
Disco Bars
I am
just a child
of the sun, moon, and stars.
Sitting with my
Rattlesnake skin rimmed Stetson hat in
Buffalo Bill’s Disco Bar.
Life in a Northern Town, The Dream Academy
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