October Night
nervous scuffling
waiting in the frost air
for a give-away flicker
from a curtained window
<>
suddenly
the signal
quick
flashing relief;
“okay men, move in,”
the Sheriff ordered, calmly;
he knew his stuff
<>
grinding out his butt
he led the seven
out of the lap of luxury
where
Space died by Katmandu
so I put her in a jester box
now I don’t know what to do
<>
(some strangled arrangement
some fitful pondering
an empty cage isn’t always
the reflection of freedom)
<>
“so be on guard, men,”
the Sheriff warner, coolly,
“ ’tis dangerous stuff
dis searchin’ so late at night”
the door opened
noiselessly at his touch,
“this way’
<>
shivering & afraid
in a bottled room;
hopefully hidden
trusting only one,
who suddenly signalled
with no time for revenge;
he could hear their feet
step carefully over the lawn
<>
shifting weight
one foot
to the
other,
floor creaking giant noise;
catching door open gently
a timid, almost heard squeak;
searching for a way out,
none
(no defence, no crime,
small & fragile
now wrapped in black
after a lingering ugly
mad dash for freedom)
<>
“I think I hear him,”
the Sheriff under-breathed,
motioning for a silent halt,
“in here!”
thrown open door
harsh light blinding
burst of bullets
blood-spattered wall,
spr
awl
ing grimacing corpse
<>
“not a pretty sight,”
the Sheriff chuckled,
avoiding the eyes;
turning quickly
stomach clutching
youngest posse member
staggers outside
in disgust
learning the easy way
about the hard way
<>
crisp moon shining
reflecting on car tops
as they dustily return
their satisfied duty done
return to the lap of luxury
where
Space died by Katmandu
so I put her in a jester box
now I don’t know what to do
Oct/71
This piece has a clear narrative line – a western trope that has been filmed countless times. I wanted to use that template & turn it into poetry, to allow the reader to see the story in a different light. It is actually two stories at the same time. One is the ambush the other is ‘Space died.’
In the printed version I was able to separate the two stories with line enjambments which disappear in WordPress 😦 So I’ve been forced to do brackets for that visual shift. At points ‘out of the lap of luxury /where /Space died’ there was a nice drift of one story into the other.
‘Space’ was one of my temple finches – small colourful birds that sang sweetly. Katmandu was a spider monkey my Dad brought home one day. Both were kept in separate cages. But cleaning the bird cage the finches flew around the room & one got too close to the monkey cage & was caught & killed. Hence the ‘empty cage’ line.
I like the way this reads like a screenplay with the clear images, the quickly defined characters: the Sheriff, the newbie. The seven is a reference to the Magnificent Seven. I wasn’t a cowboy movie fan by any means but this narrative line is assembled from many movies & tv shows like Gun Smoke, Bonanza & Have Gun Will Travel. Not Roy Rogers. Much like this piece, none of these had anything to do with the real west.
I do have a limited number of the original Distant Music chapbook for sale for $25.00 each (includes surface mail postage). Send via the paypal above along with where to send it.
TOpoet 