Swing it anyway you want a hat to fit
and with that pistol lodged near
a short drive by the horse that stopped
pulling its cart along chalk walks
as storm drains catch jacks dreams.
on the Shortest of streams to the town
emptying gasoline to smoke screen
It’s bean good to stalk over wet tee shirts.
Hiding the present whilst Courting the past
With love affairs with life of washed
Timber covered and Honed under concealed
As the signs show the leading roads
to barrel makers when the unwired
Enigmas can no longer sow.