God, Horses, and Saw: $4mm4n.tumblr.com
God I miss the days when you could
show up to a stranger’s farm and he’d say
“What’s your name, boy?” and you’d take
off your hat and hold it to your chest to
better let him see your face and reply
“Why I ain’t got none, sir, on account of
my mama passed on before she could
give me one” and he’d tell you he’s real
damn sorry to hear that and ask what he
can do you for and you’d tell him that you
can’t read nor even write neither but you’re
mighty good with horses and can mend
them fallen fence posts what you saw on
your way in and won’t ask for nothing
much more than a hot meal and a warm
barn to sleep in and he’d keep his wife
and daughters inside but send his boy
who ain’t got married yet even though
his mama tells him he needs a woman
out with a lantern and some stew at night
and the two of you’d get to talkin and
he’d throw you his flask to take a swig
from and watch you drinkin from it while
he leant against the door frame and when
he finally got called back on up to the
house again he’d take a sip from it too real
slow-like like it weren’t the whiskey what
he were tryna savour
meirl