Confetti Westerns

Wild Geese You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

You can have your space, cowboy

Irony                                                                                                                                           I wake to red sand I sleep here coral brick hooghaan I walk thin rabbit brush trails side- step early autumn tarantulas pick desert white flowers on full days I inhale fe- male rain I stop wheels slow sheep bounce drop sheep shit across highways potholed me I grass nothing here I meta- grass I sleep- walk grasses open eyes to blue corn sky to cook up stews chunks half-chewed thru I am this salivating mouth without hands with- out arms bent down shameless face to plate to some origin(al) hunger aware that I’m alone and I alone am the one -> pushing the head to eat

In truth, the cowboy is only a hired hand. A farm boy in leather britches and a comical hat....We do not need cowboys or ranchers. We’ve carried them on our backs long enough.