29 – Car Trouble

Ain’t nothing more Roughneck
than a man who castrates bulls
with a rope he pulls
from the backseat of his pickup,
whose hard gravel laugh
makes you stand taller,
wipe a tear from your eye
and matter of factly
explain yourself
and that goddamn car —
you swear for affect —
fold up the Damsel
with neat corners
for her next distress,
today you’re a Warrior
no more than inconvenienced,
a firm hand on the
blade tucked in your front pocket
and eye on the ironwood stick
you keep in the back seat
for walking
(or wounding, in a pinch).

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Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. Photo by Ivan Mudruk. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.